


An Unlikely Pair

by orphan_account



Series: An Unlikely Pair [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Mind Control, Vampire Merlin, Voyeurism, Werewolf Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Werewolves and vampires are supposed to be sworn enemies. They are <i>not</i> supposed to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unlikely Pair

**Author's Note:**

> Mordred in this fic is the cute Asa Butterfield version, not the hot Alex Vlahos one.

  


She was innocent. A happy girl with long dark hair and chocolate eyes, and a bounce in her step as she walked. That is, until she walked past a particularly shady alley on a particularly late Sunday night.  
  
Merlin pulled her into the shadows with expert hands and bit into her pulsing neck hungrily. It’d been so long, too long, since he’d had a proper meal. He didn’t really want to drain this one dry, wanted to suck just enough blood then send her on her merry way without a memory of the whole event. But he was _so_ thirsty. And he started his new job tomorrow night. He wanted to be full.  
  
He licked his lips as her body sank to the ground. He’d stopped mourning the loss of innocent life centuries ago, but there was always a moment of silent awe as the realisation that he just took someone’s whole life away dawned on him. She probably had a good family and lots of friends. Probably a great job and so much money she didn’t know what to do with it, thus explaining why she tasted of alcohol on a Sunday night.  
  
Merlin had just dumped her body in the rubbish bin when he heard growling behind him.  
  
He didn’t have to turn around to know the hot-blooded stare of a werewolf was directly on him. He would have smelled that stench a mile away.  
  
“Down, boy.” Merlin bent his knees and circled the large beast with his fangs exposed. “Just out for a midnight snack.”  
  
The werewolf’s growl rumbled low in his throat and his lips curled up to show off his own impressive canines.  
  
“All full now,” Merlin sneered, rubbing his stomach. “Be a good pup and don’t bother me. I’m not in the mood.”  
  
The werewolf growled again, and with a bark, nodded his head in the direction of the street, telling Merlin to get lost before he changed his mind.  
  
“There’s a good boy.”  
  
The beast barked again, this time aggressively and Merlin turned around and ran at inhuman speed into the night.

****

  
Arthur woke up nude among dirty white sheets. At least he’d made it to his flat this time. A couple full moons prior he’d had to make his way back naked and break into his own home by smashing the window from the fire escape.  
  
He stretched and walked to the shower. It was always weird walking on two legs again after a night spent out as a wolf. Luckily it was only once a month and the rest of the time he could spend leading a semi-normal life.  
  
Arthur shook his hair out when he stepped out of the shower and immediately groaned. He’d managed to get everything wet _again._ The mirror and walls were flecked with water and the loo roll was damp.  
  
He got dressed and headed out to work. When he got to the hospital right at 6:00 p.m. he knew something was wrong. He could smell it.  
  
Vampire.  
  
Arthur narrowed his eyes as he stepped off the lift and onto the fourth floor. The stench was stronger here. He walked to the locker room to change into his scrubs, then emerged back into the hallway ready for work. He walked down the hallway and looked around.  
  
Arthur stopped by his boss’s office and looked through the blinds over the window. There was a dark-haired, pale-skinned man that was sitting in the chair opposite the desk and sniffing the air just as discreetly as he was. That’s when the man looked right at him.  
  
Arthur recognised him immediately. It was the same vamp he’d run into the night before. The one he’d watched kill an innocent girl and stuff into a rubbish bin like she didn’t matter.  
  
He stifled a growl and the bloodsucker’s mouth curled up in a smirk just before he returned his gaze to the boss. He nodded enthusiastically then was standing and shaking the boss’s hand. Arthur could hear what they were saying from behind the door.  
  
“Thank you so much, sir. I only hope the rest of the staff will share your opinion of me,” the vampire was saying. Arthur snorted softly and the vamp’s eyes glanced his way with a mischievous twinkle. His hearing was just as good as Arthur’s.  
  
“I wouldn’t worry about that, Mr Emrys. You’re an amicable man, good at making acquaintances. We’re glad to have you at Albion Hospital,” Mr Smith said.  
  
“When shall I start?”  
  
Mr Smith pursed his lips. “How about now? I’ll have someone show you where the locker room is. Pendragon should have just arrived,” Mr Smith announced, checking his wrist watch. “He’s a good man. Helpful, always gets his work done. Takes a sick day every now and then but he’s hardworking. You’ll like him.”  
  
Arthur glared at him through the blinds.  
  
“I’m sure we’ll get along fabulously,” Merlin agreed with a charming smile.  
  
Arthur quickly turned and walked down the hallway to avoid being seen. Mr Smith opened the door, looked left then right, and called his name. Arthur only turned around on the third time, as if he’d been too caught up in his thoughts to hear him.  
  
Mr Smith walked to him with the smirking vamp in tow. “Arthur, this is Merlin Emrys, Albion’s newest employee. I’d like you to help him out whenever you can, show him where the café is, all that good stuff,” Mr Smith said.  
  
Arthur forced a smile and held out his hand. “Hello Merlin. Nice to meet you.”  
  
Merlin’s grin was more of an evil I’m-plotting-to-kill-you kind of smile, but Elyan, the blind bastard, didn’t notice subtle things like that. “Likewise.”  
  
When their hands separated Arthur made sure to wipe his hand on his scrubs so that the movement would only be seen by Merlin. Merlin, the twat, did the same on his trousers.  
  
“Excellent. I’ll let you get all settled in then.” Mr Smith nodded once in satisfaction and returned to his office as oblivious as he’d left it.  
  
As soon as he was gone, Merlin dropped the act and began coughing rather dramatically.  
  
“Like you smell any better,” Arthur muttered as he turned on his heel and went to check on various patients.  
  
“Just my luck, stuck working with a dog,” Merlin complained, keeping pace easily.  
  
“Why are you working anyways? Doesn’t your kind have loads saved up from centuries of swindling people out of their money?” Arthur jeered.  
  
“I’m only a little over _one_ century old, thank you very much,” Merlin retorted. “And no, I don’t. I seem to have spent it all, and killing one’s landlord is generally frowned upon in this modern age.”  
  
“Generally.”  
  
“What’s your story then? You dogs are supposed to be semi-immortal too, are you not?”  
  
Arthur glared at him. “Like I have to tell you anything.”  
  
“I told _you._ ”  
  
“I never said you had to.”  
  
“Ugh. What is it with you mutts? First the one from last night and now you. If I believed in it, I’d say karma had finally caught up with me.”  
  
Arthur spun on his heel again and looked at Merlin with disgust. “Oh, you mean the one you ran into after slaughtering that girl in the alley?” Merlin’s brow shot up. “Yeah, that was me. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped insulting me and my kind. You already stink up the place.”  
  
Merlin laughed. “Unbelievable. That was _you_?” He shook his head. “Of course. Figures. What was your problem anyway?”  
  
“Besides having seen a girl’s throat ripped out? Nothing.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “I did not rip out her throat. Stop exaggerating. I just bit her.” Merlin held up his palms. “I didn’t even mean to drain her. That sort of just happened.”  
  
“Which is exactly why you creatures are so despicable,” Arthur spat. “You can’t control yourselves, and innocent people end up paying the price.”  
  
“You’re one to talk! You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you don’t have a single life hanging over your head.”  
  
Arthur remembered his childhood friend Kay with remorse. “That was different. I had only just turned. Now I’ve got restraint. Unlike some.”  
  
“Whatever. But I know your kind. Get too upset on a full moon and that urge to chomp on something so hard the bones break takes over. You’re still too young, clearly. But trust me. One night.”  
  
“I have patients to see to.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes got wide and his expression softened. “Wait!”  
  
“What?” Arthur replied cautiously.  
  
“Will you at least show me where the café is?”  
  
“Ha bloody ha.”

****

  
Two weeks. That’s how long Merlin lasted before a handsome young doctor named Gwaine caught his eye and he offered to take him out for drinks a Friday morning.  
  
Arthur eyed Merlin suspiciously as the pair walked out together and they headed to Gwaine’s car. (Of course Merlin didn’t need one since he could run everywhere.) He decided he’d follow them.  
  
Arthur had no idea what to do when it came to trailing someone inconspicuously, but he thought he did pretty well considering. It was about 4:00 a.m. when they parked in front of what looked to be Merlin’s building. Arthur had been to Gwaine’s before and this certainly wasn’t it. Though what happened to getting drinks, Arthur didn’t know.  
  
“I’ve got some expensive wine I’ve been dying to open. Just had nobody to open it with,” he heard Merlin say as he got out of the car.  
  
Gwaine got out and went round to Merlin, who then promptly wrapped a possessive arm around Gwaine’s waist and whispered in his ear. Arthur’s hearing was keen enough to just barely pick up what was said from down the street.  
  
“And then the real fun will begin.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. Could he be any more cliché? But Gwaine just licked his lips and nodded eagerly. Honestly, the man thought with his dick.  
  
When they disappeared into the building Arthur jumped out and made his way up the fire escape. He listened through the walls to Gwaine’s pumping heart as the lift went up.  
  
Merlin lived on the third floor from the top. It was as he saw Merlin open the door that Arthur realised he didn’t exactly have a plan. He supposed he’d come to protect Gwaine, but how he was going to do that he didn’t know.  
  
Merlin really did have a bottle of expensive wine and they each drank (or in Merlin’s case, pretended to drink) for fifteen minutes before tongues started to get intimately acquainted.  
  
Arthur tensed. If Merlin was going to make his move, this was going to be the opportune time. But as clothes began to fall to the floor, Arthur felt himself getting hard, and his heart raced each time Merlin moaned. _That_ had certainly never happened to him before. He'd never in his life felt himself attracted to a male.  
  
Then Merlin spoke, albeit a bit huskily. “Just so you know,” he got out between kisses. “This is only a one time fuck. I don’t do awkward work romances.”  
  
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Gwaine replied as he moved to kiss Merlin’s neck and jaw.  
  
“Good.”  
  
With that out the way, Merlin pulled his wallet out of his trouser pocket and produced a condom and lube packet. He shoved them into Gwaine’s hands as he removed the rest of his clothing and by the time he was fully naked, Gwaine had gotten the condom on and had lubed up his fingers, ready to stretch Merlin open.  
  
Merlin bent over the back of the sofa with his legs spread shoulder-width apart and pushed a slick finger in. Merlin immediately bit his lip and moaned in pleasure.  
  
“God, Merlin, you’re so fucking hot,” Gwaine said as he palmed Merlin’s arse with one hand.  
  
“Thanks. You’re not too—Oh fuck, _yes._ ”  
  
“Like that, do you?” Gwaine stroked the spot again.  
  
“Yeah, just, fuck, add another finger already so we can get on with this.”  
  
“Someone’s a bossy bottom.”  
  
Merlin didn’t reply, just pressed his forehead against the soft cushions and breathed deeply. Which was stupid, because he was undead, he didn’t _have_ to breathe, but the sound of it turned on Arthur all the same.

And what the hell was happening? Why was it that all Arthur could do was just watch?  
  
Finally, after another couple of minutes, Gwaine was lining up his cock when Merlin stopped him.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
He turned and lifted Gwaine with ease over the sofa, then set him down so he was laying flat on his back. Gwaine seemed surprised by how strong Merlin was despite his thin frame, but was probably so aroused and ready to go that it didn’t bother him.  
  
Merlin jumped over the back of the sofa and landed neatly so that he was straddling Gwaine. He was facing Arthur and had only to look up to spot him through the gap in the curtains. But he didn’t. Instead he reached behind with one hand and guided Gwaine’s cock into his arse like it was what he was waiting for his whole life.  
  
Once inside, Gwaine started bucking his hips upwards and Merlin met him halfway by grinding down onto him. Their slapping skin was loud and obscene and Arthur had unconsciously started to palm his own crotch. He yanked his hand away when he realised what he’d been doing.  
  
Arthur was here to protect Gwaine. That was all. Once Merlin made a single move to hurt the man, he’d break the window and put a stop to it. Yeah. That’s exactly what he’d do.  
  
If that time ever came. It seemed to go on for hours, though it was more like six minutes, and in that six minutes, as Arthur watched Merlin impale himself on Gwaine's cock over and over, Arthur had to do a bit of re-evaluating of his life, mainly is sexuality. Because clearly this was doing something for him, something he never even though to try.

Finally, Merlin pulled Gwaine up by his shoulders and wrapped his arms around him. One hand clutched at his back while the other drifted up to curl his fingers in his hair.  
  
Merlin licked at Gwaine’s earlobe and trailed kisses down the side of his face and finally to his neck. Arthur’s heartbeat sped up and he hoped against hope that Merlin was too focused on Gwaine to hear it. Then, just as Merlin opened his mouth wide, fangs elongating and sinking into Gwaine’s neck, he raised his eyes and looked directly at Arthur. They were pupilless and black as an abyss.  
  
“Ouch!” Gwaine yelped. But that was it. His thrusting slowed so it became mostly Merlin who rocked up and down, back and forth on the man’s cock as he sucked the blood out of him. The whole time Merlin gazed steadily at Arthur, who was frozen to his spot and could only stare back.  
  
Merlin didn’t go at it for long. A minute at the most. As soon as he removed his fangs from Gwaine’ s neck, he came and his eyes squeezed shut at the intensity of the climax. He licked his lips, but blood still dripped down his chin.  
  
After a few more jerks of his hips, Gwaine came undone as well, then promptly fell back and into unconsciousness. Merlin leaned forward and licked the entry wounds clean of blood. The saliva sealed the wound back up and made it look as though it never happened. Then he slowly raised himself up and off of Gwaine’s spent cock.  
  
He talked as he cleaned himself off and put his clothes back on. “See? Didn’t kill him. Only had a bit of fun and sucked him off a little. Hehe,” Merlin laughed at his own joke. “You really should have more trust in me. If I were anyone else I might even be offended.”  
  
Arthur realised then that Merlin was talking to him, knowing full well he could hear every word he said. He shook his head and forced himself back into adversary mode, though he’d never forget how Merlin let himself be shamelessly fucked right in front of him. Merlin probably knew the whole time, since he’d started following them from the car park.  
  
“Gwaine’s an acquaintance. Just wanted to be sure you didn’t lose control like last time,” Arthur said bitingly.  
  
Even though Merlin had left the room, he still spoke, and Arthur could still hear him. “The tent in your trousers says otherwise. Why’d you really come here? Are you a secret voyeur?”  
  
Arthur grinded his teeth. “I meant what I said. I came to see that Gwaine was safe.”  
  
“And I suppose all the rest was simply a bonus?” Merlin laughed deviously and still he didn’t return to what appeared to be his living room. “Why don’t you come in? It’s unlocked.”  
  
Arthur didn’t know what made him enter, but he did. He shut the window behind him and glanced at Gwaine on the sofa. His cock was limp in the used condom and Merlin’s come was smeared across his chest, clumping his chest hair.  
  
“You’re not going to leave him like this are you?”  
  
Arthur found it was nice not having to yell to talk to someone in another room. Knowing that someone could hear him if he just spoke normally was a nice luxury he didn’t usually have.  
  
Merlin came back into the room then, every hair perfectly placed and his smile playing charmingly across his lips. “Not for long. I give him about four hours, maybe five? I’ll clean him up sometime before sunrise, which if I’m not mistaken...” He consulted his wristwatch, then inhaled through his teeth. “We’d better hurry up. Come on, then.”  
  
He turned to walk back towards where he came from, waving for Arthur to follow. Arthur’s brow furrowed but he followed anyway, and was even more confused when he found that he’d been led to what looked to be Merlin’s room.  
  
“Um, why are we in here? It reeks in here.” The stench was unbearable and climbed down his throat mercilessly.  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the comment. “Showing you that I am, in fact, not a terrible person.”  
  
Arthur was just about to say that he wasn’t a person at all, but a monster, when he suddenly felt Merlin’s hands undoing his trousers and sliding them, along with his underpants, down to his ankles. His aching erection was freed.  
  
“What—”  
  
“Just let me, would you? Out of the kindness of my cold, dead heart.”  
  
Arthur swallowed and tried to defend his honour one last time. “And let you make mincemeat of my dick with your fangs? No thanks.” Though he did wonder, what would it be like getting a blow job from a bloke, vampire part aside?  
  
Merlin gave the head a tentative lick, then licked the whole underside more boldly. “You know, for someone who smells so bad, you certainly don’t taste awful.”  
  
Arthur shook as the cold breath danced across his damp prick. It was odd, how Merlin’s breath was cold but his mouth and tongue were warm. It was like battling sensations over his cock.  
  
It was fucking amazing.  
  
Arthur wanted it. He shoved his dick into Merlin’s smirking mouth and shut him up proper. Merlin groaned in surprise but tightened his lips around the warm flesh and sucked for all he was worth. Arthur thrust quickly and forcefully, as if punishing Merlin, but it didn’t seem to have much effect as Merlin had apparently no gag reflex. He just took Arthur to the root over and over again greedily.  
  
It was icy hot and made his cock tingle in pleasure. Merlin was a master with his tongue, pulling tricks that made Arthur’s head reel and his vision swim. His breath came in short huffs and the smell of vampire was overwhelming, but it had begun to smell less like stale sweat and more like dirty socks. Fucking Merlin’s mouth was pure bliss that drowned out everything else.  
  
His cock was heavy as he spilled himself on Merlin’s eager tongue. He whimpered from the pleasure and clutched Merlin’s shoulder for support, his knees weak.  
  
Merlin swallowed every last milky drop and licked the area clean before pulling up Arthur’s pants and tucking him almost lovingly back in.  
  
“Not a complete twat now, am I?” Merlin asked, his voice hoarse from arousal.  
  
Arthur didn’t respond, just fell back against the wall and blinked a few times. Okay, his first gay blow job had been sort of brilliant. How had he gotten into this situation again?  
  
Merlin chuckled and was gone. Arthur was faintly aware of the vampire moving around in the other room, presumably cleaning up his earlier fuck. Once out of his post-coital daze, Arthur took a moment to survey the room he was in.  
  
There was a single light hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room. The room had wood floors, adorned with an expensive-looking rug, and heavy dark curtains over the window that matched. The only furniture was a large bed, a chest of drawers, and a nightstand. The doors to a walk-in closet were folded open on the right.  
  
Unlike what Arthur had expected of vampire sleeping arrangements, the walls weren’t painted black, there were no cobwebs, and definitely no coffin. The blanket on the bed was in fact a gaudy yellow.  
  
“Not what you imagined a vampire den to look like?”  
  
Arthur jumped at the sudden voice in his ear, and, realising his trousers were still around his ankles, bent over to pull them up with coloured cheeks.  
  
“Not exactly,” Arthur replied, shakily. “There’s an actual bed, for one.”  
  
Merlin raised a contemptuous eyebrow. “Mattresses are generally preferable to the hard backing of a coffin.” Merlin’s scrunched face turned into a teasing countenance. “I don’t suppose it’s true you lot really eat doggie treats?”  
  
Arthur blinked. He wasn’t going to admit that when he’d first turned wolf twenty years ago he had tried it out of sheer curiosity.  
  
Instead he returned Merlin’s challenging smirk. “Not in the slightest.”  
  
“Pity. I’ve always wanted a pet.”  
  
Arthur’s nostrils flared in anger and before he knew what he was doing his hand was wrapped around Merlin’s neck in a claw-like grip.  
  
“I’m _not_ a _pet_ , Emrys.”  
  
Merlin’s voice came out raspy, and he wasn’t giving Arthur the satisfaction of clutching at his blocked airway. “Course not. I haven’t bought your collar yet.”  
  
Arthur pulled Merlin forward by the throat then banged his head against the wall. “What’s to keep me from killing you right fucking now?” he growled.  
  
“Please, we both know I could snap you like a twig.”  
  
Maybe that was true, but Arthur wasn't going to show any fear. He extended his fingernails into claws and pierced Merlin’s flesh, drawing dark red blood.  
  
“I sucked you off. Is this the thanks I get?” Merlin asked, an undertone of urgency in his voice as he caught sight of the first ray of sunlight peeking into the room.  
  
“You’re saying I should let you live because of one little, admittedly fantastic, blowjob?” It was hard for Arthur to keep his voice menacing just remembering it.  
  
“ _What do you want from me_?” Merlin’s fangs had elongated and his eyes had turned coal black. He bit threateningly at the air between them, then spun Arthur around and pinned him against the wall in his place.  
  
Arthur was momentarily dazed. Merlin had shown his true form, the monster within, and had Arthur held in a grasp so firm that his feet were nearly off the floor.  
  
What _did_ Arthur want? He remembered Gwaine, limp and used on the sofa in the other room.  
  
“No more from the hospital,” he ordered. “Feed from street wretches or arrogant arsehole businessmen. But not my coworkers. Not people I know.”  
  
One side of Merlin’s lips curled up in a snarl. He spat. “Businessmen. Their blood is of the lowest quality. What do you fancy yourself, a hero of justice? You should know better, you're a werewolf, not a mortal.”  
  
Arthur yanked Merlin into the sliver of sunlight coming from the living room and into the doorway.  
  
“Agh!” Merlin’s face started smoking and the smell of burning flesh filled Arthur’s nose. “Alright, alright, fine!”  
  
Merlin pulled his face back into shadow, and Arthur could feel his hold loosening as the need to sleep was nearly upon him.  
  
“And no more insults to my kind,” he demanded.  
  
“Only if you promise me the same."  
  
“Deal.”  
  
Arthur was let go and promptly jumped into the sun-filled living room. Merlin glared at him from the safety of his bedroom.  
  
“Watch yourself, Pendragon.” His eyes had returned to their clear blue state and his fangs retracted, but his hate-filled stare was still strong. “If I were you, I’d switch to the day shift.”  
  
Without another word he slammed the door and Arthur heard more than three locks slip into place. He turned to leave and saw that Gwaine was more than just cleaned up, he was dressed and tucked neatly under a blanket. The pillow under his head looked to have been fluffed for maximum comfort and he had a small smile on his face as he slept on his side.  
  
Arthur looked questioningly at the door to Merlin’s room. Did all vamps accommodate their victims this way? He’d heard the horror stories of how people had been left, bleeding in dark alleys where rats, thinking them dead, had begun to chew on them. Girls passed out in club loos with bite marks on their necks and no recollection of what happened, attributing it to drugs or alcohol.  
  
He thought of the way Merlin had pleased him, even swallowed his come like it was the sweetest blood.  
  
Something was different about Merlin.

****

Merlin didn’t openly attack Arthur at work anymore. In fact, he never spoke to him if he could help it. And he always could. But as soon as Arthur got off the lift to the garage parking level, it felt as though he was being hunted, and he fought every urge to sprint to his car.  
  
It was as if he could feel Merlin watching, waiting, from the shadows.  
  
Two weeks passed this way, and it had been a month since Merlin had started working at the hospital as a porter. Which meant the full moon was tomorrow night and something was sure to happen.  
  
Arthur made sure to cough and sneeze and rub his nose his whole shift. It was obvious he was “coming down with something” and would probably need the next night off to recuperate. It was completely by chance that he heard Merlin speaking to a patient behind a wall divider.  
  
“I think you need to rest a bit more, Ms Le Fay.”  
  
Arthur peeked his head round the corner and saw Merlin sweeping the hair out of the patient’s face and placing his cold palm on her forehead. His back was to him and Ms Le Fay was squeezing Merlin’s other hand with all her strength in her own.  
  
“Your hands...they’re so cold...Feels nice...”  
  
“Shh. Just sleep now.” Merlin comforted her.  
  
A panic seemed to overcome her. “No! No you mustn't let me fall asleep. You have to help me.”  
  
“What would you ask of me?” His voice reminded Arthur of the time back in Merlin’s flat. Back when he had said, “Just let me, would you?”  
  
Her eyes looked up at him pleadingly, brimming with tears. “Bite me. Make me one of you.”  
  
Merlin sprang backwards faster than humanly possible, but the patient wasn’t fazed.  
  
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Merlin said ominously.  
  
Arthur froze. If Merlin so much as _touched_ her again...  
  
“I do. Believe me, I do! I don’t want to die,” she begged. “Please don’t let me die.”  
  
Ms Le Fay was old. Frail and thin, with wispy white hair. But her voice, despite her failing body, was strong.  
  
Merlin’s jaws tightened as he fixed his resolve. “I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone. Not on my worst enemy. And yet you choose it willingly.” He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Only after all your friends have died will you know what this life means, only after you’ve killed as many as I have and lived to regret it. After you've seen yourself become a monster.”  
  
Arthur stared at the back of Merlin’s head and he suddenly seemed the most lonely man in the world.  
  
“Please.”  
  
Merlin passed a tired hand over his face and backed away. “Just—just let me think on it, okay? It’s not something to be taken lightly.”  
  
Arthur stepped back himself behind the divider until Merlin had walked in view. They made eye contact, steadily gazing at each other, but with curiosity, not animosity.  
  
“You’re not going to do it, are you?” Arthur asked too low for the patient to hear.  
  
“Of course I’m not, you dollop-head,” Merlin snapped back. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make her think that.”  
  
“What did you have in mind?”  
  
Merlin lowered his eyes, and for a moment Arthur recognised a tinge of pain behind them. “I’m going to kill her.”  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
Merlin didn’t bother raising his voice to defend himself, just looked resigned to his choice. “I can’t watch her fade away to nothing. Die slowly and without hope. I have to—have to do _some_ thing.”  
  
“But kill her?”  
  
“Would you have me turn her instead?”  
  
“No...”  
  
“This is what’s best,” Merlin pressed. “I’ll bite her, make her believe I’m giving her this curse, and then...” Merlin swallowed. “I won’t stop. I’ll drain her of every last drop. At least then she can die thinking there’s hope for her, even if there’s not.”  
  
“That’s cruel, Emrys.”  
  
“Is it? Is it any different than saying there’s a God in Heaven to make you feel better about dying?” he countered. “The process consists of an exchange of blood, then dying, then waking up thirsty. But she doesn't know that. She’ll die, and she’ll never wake up.” He lowered his eyes again, brow furrowed. “It’s unfortunate, but sometimes things such as this must be done.”  
  
Arthur, as much as his nose would protest, wanted to close the short distance between them and bring Merlin into an embrace. Arthur had lived with his curse for two decades, had seemingly remained the age of twenty-nine for as long. But it was nothing compared to a century’s worth of responsibility that Merlin had on his shoulders.  
  
Instead, Arthur held his hand out. “Then do what must be done.”  
  
Merlin looked at the outstretched hand for a moment, realising it for the peace offering that it was. He lifted his gaze to meet Arthur’s, then accepted the hand firmly and nodded.  
  
Merlin disappeared behind the divider, startling the patient. She sat up in her bed. “You’ll do it?” she asked hopefully.  
  
“I will.” Merlin walked over and stroked her forehead a couple more times before raising her chin gently and turning her face to the side, exposing her neck.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered affectionately. “Thank you so much.”  
  
Merlin smiled softly and sighed as he bent over her. “It will all be over soon. Don’t worry.”  
  
Arthur flinched as his keen ears picked up the sound of piercing flesh.

****

  
“Come on, Merlin, have some fun for once!”  
  
Merlin looked at the excited, bouncing, vampire before him with boredom. Mordred had been fifteen when he was turned a hundred years ago, so it wasn’t out of place for him to be more energetic than the rest of them.  
  
“I have fun all the time,” Merlin drawled tiredly. “Work. Fun. Sex. Fun. Drinking. Fun. So much fucking fun. Barrels of fun all the fucking time.”  
  
“We’ll go to Camelot tonight. That’s where all the sixth formers go because it’s easy to sneak past the bouncer. Young blood!”  
  
“I fed yesterday.” Merlin picked his nails with his thumb and tapped his foot absent-mindedly.  
  
“You’re no fun anymore, Emrys,” Mordred waved him off. “I’ll go with Edwin. Won’t I, Edwin?”  
  
Mordred looked hopefully at the blond-haired vampire sitting sideways in the chair opposite Merlin. Edwin looked back with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Where are we off to now?”  
  
“Camelot.”  
  
“Isn’t that your place?” Edwin asked Merlin.  
  
“Was. Got bored of it,” Merlin replied dryly.  
  
“Nimmie round?”  
  
“Haven’t seen her.” Merlin flicked the dirt under his nail across the room. With a sigh he picked up Edwin’s dagger, a chrome weapon that glistened in the firelight, and twirled it through his fingers.  
  
“Well, Eddie, are you coming or not?” Mordred demanded.  
  
“Call me Eddie once more and I’ll separate your head from your body,” Edwin said.  
  
“Alright. You for it then?”  
  
Edwin swung his legs around so he was sitting properly and stood up. “You only want me because you’re not old enough to get in by yourself.”  
  
“I _am_ old enough. I’m over a hundred years old for fuck’s sake!”  
  
“And still don’t look a day over ten.”  
  
“It’s not my fault everyone in my family aged slow.”  
  
“And now they don’t age at all, because they’re all dead. Ha.”  
  
“Not true. I managed to fuck a girl before I died. I’ve got a granddaughter out there somewhere. I think. Unless I fed from her.” Mordred stopped to consider.  
  
“You _fed_ from your granddaughter?!” Merlin asked alarmed. Merlin had done some rather morally questionable things in his own time, but he'd never feed from family.  
  
Mordred shrugged impishly. “I just wanted to see what she was like. But I’d forgotten I was so thirsty and well, you know what the hunger’s like when it takes over.”  
  
“You don’t regret it? You don’t care at all that you ended your whole family line because you were _a little parched_?” Edwin asked incredulously.  
  
Mordred shrugged again. “Not like I can go back in time to fix it. Best to move on. To Camelot, for instance.” He tapped an invisible watch on his wrist. “Dawn’s not coming any slower tonight, fellas.”  
  
Merlin snorted and stuck the dagger into the table beside him. “I can’t deal with this idiocy any longer. I’m going home.”  
  
Merlin stood up and Mordred gave him the finger. Edwin nodded.  
  
“Later, man.”  
  
Merlin walked into the night, closing the secret door behind him. The stones moved to sink the door back into the wall and Merlin walked on.  
  
It was a full moon tonight. The werewolves would be roaming the streets and he had to be careful. There were only about five of them in the whole city, much less than the amount of vampires, who thrived in crowded spaces. Still, it wouldn’t do to let his guard down. That was the quickest way to die.  
  
He froze as he heard the clashing metal of a rubbish bin being knocked over. The sound broke loud and pierced the silence of the night. At least in this area. In the more lively districts of the city, such a sound wouldn’t have been out of place.  
  
Merlin scanned the deserted street. Only one street lamp was in working order, throwing the rest in moonlit shadow. Not a soul was there with him.  
  
He kept walking, hands stuffed in his pockets, until he heard hard crunching sounds. Like some kind of animal was munching on bones.  
  
He walked a little further and sure enough, head halfway in a knocked over rubbish bin, was a tan werewolf, his tail wagging furiously.  
  
Merlin laughed and it echoed off the buildings. The wolf jumped back, a large bone between its teeth. He growled at Merlin, first because he was territorial, second because Merlin was a vampire.  
  
Merlin stepped closer and looked at the wolf more closely. The hair on his back was sticking up, and the growl was a low rumble that shook his entire body.  
  
“Blue eyes, huh?” Merlin muttered to himself in observation.  
  
The bone in the wolf’s mouth dropped to the ground with a hollow noise. He tilted his head to the side and one ear perked up.  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
The wolf barked, then began backing away. He—Arthur—stopped, stepped forward a bit, picked up the bone, then turned around and bolted.  
  
“Hey, wait up!” Merlin ran after him.  
  
Werewolves were fast. Faster than normal wolves. But vampires were faster.  
  
“Arthur, stop. I’m not trying to hurt you, you idiot,” Merlin called out.  
  
Arthur came to a stop, his claws skidding across the street as he turned around. He barked again.  
  
Merlin approached cautiously. “I was just thinking we could...I dunno...hang out. Walk around a bit.”  
  
Arthur tilted his head and his tongue hung idly out of his mouth after he dropped the bone.  
  
“But if you don’t want to...I mean...whatever.” Merlin shrugged. He leaned against a brick wall, looking into the wolf’s eyes, imagining a human Arthur behind them.  
  
For a minute Arthur just stared, sizing up Merlin and whether he was serious or not. Then, to Merlin’s pleasant surprise, he started to wag his tail and walked over to the brooding vampire. He stopped at his side, turned to face forward, and looked up at Merlin expectantly.  
  
“Yeah. Okay. Let’s do this.” Merlin smiled.  
  
Arthur was a lot funnier as a wolf. He got into all sorts of trouble just like a normal stray dog would, and Merlin had to admit he found it a bit adorable. But Arthur was just as smart as he was when he was human, it was only that he couldn’t communicate as well.  
  
They stuck to alleys and backstreets. Every once in a while a druggie or homeless person or the odd couple out late at night would make an appearance and it wouldn’t do to have an oversized canine in the middle of such a concrete jungle.  
  
Merlin showed Arthur all the spots he usually frequented when he was out alone. When Arthur cocked his head to one side at the word “alone,” Merlin explained that there were other vamps out there, obviously, but he tended to be more to himself.  
  
“They’re alright, the others. Edwin’s great. Nimmie’s okay, I suppose. Mordred doesn't stop moving. And Gwen, well. Gwen is Gwen.”  
  
Arthur went from sitting on his haunches to laying on his stomach. Merlin was sitting against a wall, with Arthur beside him. Without thinking about it, he started to pet Arthur’s fur and scratch behind his ear, causing a vibration in Arthur’s throat not too different from a purring sound.  
  
“I mean, Gwen is superb. She used to be happier. But then her great-granddaughter...well, Gwen decided to bring her into the life. But as years went on she—her great-granddaughter, that is—got bitter and began to hate Gwen. All her friends got older, had children of their own, died. Gwen’s been different, is all.”  
  
Arthur curled up contentedly against Merlin’s thigh and let himself be pet.  
  
“I got so fed up with wandering the streets alone that I just stopped going out altogether,” Merlin continued. “Thought I’d go without blood for a while, try sucking on raw steaks instead.” He laughed humourlessly. “Not the best idea. Ended up killing a poor girl.”  
  
He rubbed Arthur’s stomach affectionately and smiled. “Then some random werewolf comes from out of nowhere, turning up his nose and judging me. Ha! Now look. I think I’ve even gotten used to the smell.”  
  
A bark erupted from Arthur and Merlin laughed heartily. Arthur’s tail swept the ground in wide arcs, so Merlin guessed he was happy too.  
  
He sighed and his smile softened. “This job is the one thing that’s keeping me from going off the deep end, I think. Taking care of those people, actually _doing_ something with my life after all this time being the bad guy. It’s good.”  
  
Arthur turned his head and stared at Merlin with sympathy. He nudged Merlin’s hand with his wet nose.  
  
It would always surprise Merlin how wise an animal’s eyes could look. He scratched Arthur’s stomach and Arthur’s leg started kicking involuntarily. After that, Arthur lifted himself up and resettled so that his chin was on Merlin’s thigh in his lap. Merlin stroked the top of his head thoughtfully.  
  
“I didn’t really mean it, when I said you’d be my pet, earlier. I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t degrade you like that. I know what it’s like to be pigeon-holed as something. As a monster,” Merlin said bitterly. “But you had no right to attack me like that. And if you’d simply asked I wouldn’t have fed from the staff anymore.”  
  
Arthur looked up apologetically; Merlin saw it in his eyes.  
  
“I trusted you. But you didn’t trust me,” Merlin continued. “And that hurt. Granted, you’d seen me kill a girl only a couple weeks before. That was just...unlucky coincidence. Things like that never happen, at least not usually.” He lowered his eyes to Arthur’s. “And won’t happen again.”  
  
Arthur stood and licked the side of Merlin’s face, then promptly sneezed away from him.  
  
“Gross, Arthur,” Merlin said, wiping his face, but laughing. “I’ll smell like wolf for the rest of eternity, I’m sure of it!”  
  
Arthur barked then took off down the street. Merlin stood up.  
  
“Hey, where are you going now?”  
  
Arthur disappeared behind a corner and Merlin ran to catch up.

****

  
The smell is what woke him.  
  
He scrunched up his nose, sniffed the air, and jumped out of bed. He flailed around and landed on his arse with a thump.  
  
Merlin. In his bed. Sleeping.  
  
Not for long, however. Merlin groaned and rolled over, then slowly opened his eyes. He too, scrunched his nose, and sat up straight.  
  
“Fucking hell,” he mumbled, scratching his head. He turned and saw Arthur, very surprised and very naked, on the floor. “Fucking hell!”  
  
Arthur crossed his legs and covered himself. Merlin, after the initial shock, started laughing.  
  
“Like I haven’t seen anything already,” he said, chuckling.  
  
Arthur blushed and shakily stood. Two legs again. Right.  
  
“Um. Why are you here?” Arthur asked.  
  
“I, er...huh...” Merlin paused to remember. “I guess I followed you here.”  
  
Arthur’s jaw dropped. “You what? How did you even get in? I thought you had to be invited.”  
  
“You _did_ invite me in. Just when the sun was about to come up and you changed back, I yelled and screamed until you said, ‘Come in and shut up.’ I wouldn’t have followed you back if I realised how close to sunrise it was. I sort of, I dunno, got in the bed and went to sleep,” Merlin explained with a shrug. “You didn’t seem to mind at the time.”  
  
“I was half asleep and part wolf, my priorities were a little rearranged!” Arthur yelled.  
  
“Are you angry?”  
  
Arthur opened his mouth to yell again, but he cut himself off. Was he angry? Not really. He’d enjoyed last night, hadn’t he? But to wake up naked next to someone he’d never even considered his friend a couple days ago...  
  
“No,” Arthur said. “Just...a little confused.”  
  
“You remember last night, don’t you?”  
  
Arthur nodded. “We ‘walked around a bit.’ Yeah, I remember.”  
  
He remembered everything, save Merlin following him home and curling up next to him. The way he’d let Merlin pet him, how Merlin had confessed to him why he had really taken the job at the hospital, the detachment from the other vampires.  
  
“Good.” Merlin sounded relieved.  
  
“I’m going to, um...” He glanced toward the loo.  
  
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Merlin got up and went to the bedroom door.  
  
Arthur stretched his arms and back on the way to the shower. He spent a good ten minutes cleaning up, making sure to wash behind his ears. He got caught up in scratching just behind them, the feeling so good that he saw double, before he realised what he was doing and turned off the water.  
  
He remembered to shake out his hair _before_ opening the shower this time.  
  
Arthur walked into his living room, toweling his hair, when Merlin looked up from the telly.  
  
“We doing anything tonight?” Merlin asked.  
  
Arthur cocked an eyebrow. “Like what?”  
  
Merlin raised and lowered and shoulder. “I dunno. Go out?”  
  
Arthur froze. “Are you asking me on a date?”  
  
Merlin sputtered. “N-no! I was just saying, you know, because neither of us has work tonight, that we could, I dunno, do something. Or whatever.”  
  
“Any place in mind?”  
  
Merlin tried to think of the last club in the city that his vampire mates would go to. “The Tomb?”  
  
“We’re going to an underground rave?” Arthur asked incredulously.  
  
“If you want. We could go to the cinema if you’d prefer, but I’ve seen enough shows in my lifetime to know there really is nothing new under the sun so—”  
  
“Okay, rave it is.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Merlin nodded. “Okay. Okay. I’ll just go home and change. I’ll be right back.”  
  
With that, Merlin disappeared. Arthur sighed and sat down where he’d been, picking up the clicker to scan through the channels.  
  
He stopped and turned his head to the side. He could smell it. Vampire.  
  
The stench clung to the seat, attacking Arthur’s olfactory sense in full force. But it wasn’t quite a stench anymore. It was more of an odour. Arthur wondered how his life had become even stranger than it already was.

****

  
As soon as they arrived outside the entrance to the Tomb, Merlin swore.  
  
“What’s up?” Arthur asked.  
  
“Change of plans.”  
  
He turned around but Mordred was already there in front of him.  
  
“Hiya, Merlin!” He waved. “Fancy meeting you here.” He caught sight of Arthur and his eyes went coal black. “What’s the mutt doing here?”  
  
Arthur glared back hatefully. “Certainly not the same thing a leech is doing here I expect.”  
  
Merlin put his palms to each of their chests. “Come on, please. Let’s not fight, yeah?”  
  
Mordred eyed Arthur suspiciously then turned his gaze on Merlin.  
  
“This why you’ve been ditching us lately?” Mordred inquired. “You got a pet dog now?”  
  
Merlin socked him in the face and his lip split open. Mordred sucked the lip into his mouth then spat.  
  
“You have, haven’t you? The poor stray warmed your little heart and now you’ve fallen for him, fallen for a _mutt._ ”  
  
“Better than falling for an human,” Merlin retorted. “Ever heard the expression ‘don’t play with your food?’”  
  
“Kara is my thrall,” Mordred sputtered in defense. “And besides, he’s less than human,” he said, gesturing to Arthur. “He’s scum.”  
  
Merlin reached forward and snapped Mordred’s arm with ease. Mordred howled in pain, drawing more than several eyes.  
  
“Remember your place, Mordred,” Merlin intoned.  
  
With a grunt, Mordred set his bones back in place and spit on the break, speeding up the healing process. Luckily, nobody had come over to investigate the commotion.  
  
Arthur was between anger at being called scum, mortification at seeing Merlin break someone’s arm so casually (even if they were another vampire), and adoration because Merlin stood up for him.  
  
He decided on some queer mixture of all three and remained silent.  
  
“Oh, just wait till I tell Edwin,” Mordred muttered darkly. “He’s gonna love this.”  
  
“Go ahead, because there’s nothing _to_ tell.”  
  
“We’ll see about that.”  
  
Mordred disappeared and left the two of them alone. Merlin turned with apologetic eyes to Arthur.  
  
“And there’s the reason why I don’t hang out with them anymore. Mordred’s been a thorn in my side ever since I created him.”  
  
Arthur gaped. “ _You’re_ the one responsible for that child? I was wondering what kind of mentally afflicted person makes a kid a vampire.”  
  
“Vampires can get pissed too, you know. Feed from someone who’s had a little too much to drink, and you end up with a drunk vampire.” A shadow passed over Merlin’s eyes. “I’m just glad Mordred’s my only mistake.”  
  
Arthur swallowed. Merlin was full of surprises, most of them painful. Arthur would never be able to live with himself if he’d done something so horrible. He had misjudged Merlin right from the beginning.  
  
“I don’t suppose you’re in the mood for dancing anymore, are you?”  
  
Arthur shook his head. “I’m starving, though.”  
  
Merlin assented. “Okay. You like Italian?”  
  
“Doesn’t everybody?”

****

  
Nobody except the waitress asked whether or not Merlin wanted anything, and Merlin had made the obligatory vampire joke, “You’re not on the menu, are you?” which sent her into a fit of giggles. She asked again if he was sure he didn’t want anything when Arthur’s meal arrived and he waved half-heartedly for a glass of water.  
  
Arthur dug into his meal viciously. He’d ordered chicken—he _loved_ chicken—over angel hair noodles.  
  
“You eat like—”  
  
“—a dog, I know,” Arthur finished. “As if I haven’t heard that one before.”  
  
“I’m sorry about Mordred.” The apology seemed to come out of nowhere.  
  
Arthur swallowed his food. “It’s fine.”  
  
“From what I've gathered, you werewolves get along great.”  
  
Arthur shrugged. “You’d think. But I’ve only ever encountered one and he was...well, the couple times I met him, it was interesting.”  
  
He slurped up his noodles and Merlin sat back, crossed his arms.  
  
“How so?”  
  
“The first time was on the outskirts of the city. I’d picked up a scent that led to a corpse. He was drained of blood.” Arthur took a sip of his drink, let the information sink in. “Leon was there. That’s the name of the other wolf. He didn’t like me right off. Growled at me, told me to get lost. So I went back home.”  
  
“I thought wolves were supposed to be about unity, family, and all that good stuff.”  
  
Arthur nodded. “That’s more what it was like the second time. I was—” He looked down, embarrassed. “—I was going through some rubbish, similar to last night, when Leon came up behind me. He sniffed me over, figured out what I was about, then offered me a bone.” Arthur’s eyes got a faraway look just thinking about it. “I don’t know where he got it, but it was huge, pristine—”  
  
“Arthur,” Merlin interrupted, chuckling.  
  
“Right. Basically, it was an offering. He wanted me to join his pack.” Arthur looked down into his pasta, spun noodles around his fork idly. “I said no.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Didn’t feel right. I guess I never really accepted what I’d become. Joining his pack, any pack, would be like taking the final step, like embracing it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that yet.”  
  
He shoved his fork in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Merlin shifted in his seat.  
  
“How did you become a werewolf? If you don’t mind me asking.”  
  
“Dog bite,” Arthur said. “Turned out not to be a dog.”  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow, a silent invitation for more explanation.  
  
Arthur sighed. “I was walking home late. I was pissed. I saw a dog bleeding on the ground, his chest was barely moving. Thinking about it now, it was a rather huge dog and I should have been more cautious. I bent down to help, thought I was doing something good, thought I’d take him to a shelter or something. When I extended my hand, he bit me. Then he died and that was that.”  
  
Arthur sat back and rubbed his full stomach contentedly. Merlin smiled at the common gesture.  
  
“Ready to get out of here?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Merlin signalled for the bill and pulled out a fifty pound note. “Keep the change,” Merlin winked at the waitress. She went a deep red as the blood rushed to her cheeks and Merlin eyed the effect hungrily.  
  
It was a chilly March night they walked into and the waning moon was high in the sky. They walked in silence for awhile, not sure but not exactly caring where they were going. After a time, Arthur looked sideways at Merlin.  
  
“You’re not poor, are you?” he asked the vampire.  
  
Merlin glanced over. “What gives you that impression?”  
  
“Your clothes, your flat...your tip to the waitress.”  
  
Merlin smiled wryly. “No, you’re right. I’m rather well off, I admit.”  
  
“So you meant what you said last night? About why you’re really working at the hospital?”  
  
Merlin bit his lip and nodded. “I didn’t think you’d remember that,” he confessed. “I mean, I know you understood at the time. That much was clear. But I thought once you changed back you’d forget little details like that.”  
  
“I remember everything,” Arthur said softly.  
  
“Even licking my face?” Merlin grinned.  
  
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Arthur laughed. “Tasted awful. I don’t know what came over me.”  
  
“I’m surprised the others haven’t smelled you on me yet,” Merlin said, thinking of how he sat with them in their secret lounge the night before. “I reek of dog.” He cringed at the slip. “Sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Arthur allowed. “I stink of leech.”  
  
“We both stink of each other,” Merlin laughed, nudging Arthur’s shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, I guess we do,” he joined.  
  
They walked a bit further, thinking about what exactly that meant for the both of them. Where did they go from here? Had they become friends?  
  
Arthur stopped Merlin by the elbow. “Merlin. I want to apologise for the way I behaved at your flat.” He kept his gaze steady on Merlin’s blue eyes, shadowed by the dark night. “It was inexcusable and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you because of what you are. And I was...I was confused.”

He wouldn't say he'd had a gay crisis, but it had been eye-opening to say the least. He found that the more time he spent with Merlin, the more eye-opening it was.  
  
Merlin’s lips turned up in a slight smile. “It’s fine,” he said, repeating Arthur’s earlier words. “It was...” He looked away and Arthur thought if Merlin could blush, he’d be doing so now.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
Merlin swallowed. “I hadn’t felt like that in a while. Exhilarated. So close to you I could feel your breath on my face when you spoke. It was attractive. Even if you did smell.” He looked Arthur in the eye. “You’re incredibly sexy when you’re angry.”  
  
Arthur gulped under Merlin’s intense stare. “Thanks. You’re, um, a bit scary.” Arthur would never get those dark, pupilless eyes out of his memory.  
  
“Oh, you mean this?” Merlin blinked and his eyes went black as an abyss again. Arthur flinched.  
  
Merlin just laughed, and with another blink, his eyes were their normal grey-blue again. “It happens involuntarily sometimes, like when I’m angry or feeding. But I can control it when I want.” He approached Arthur, palms out in a friendly gesture. “I won’t do it again.”  
  
Arthur ventured closer. “Yeah, that’d be great, thanks,” he replied jokingly to cover his nervousness.  
  
Suddenly they were in the nearby alley and Arthur was pressed against the wall, Merlin’s hand over his mouth and his body enveloping Arthur’s entire frame. All his senses were overpowered.  
  
Merlin brought a finger to his lips, signalling urgent silence. For the second time since Arthur had met him, he looked honestly frightened.  
  
“I’m telling you, I _saw_ him.”  
  
Arthur had heard that voice before, earlier that same evening. Mordred.  
  
“Sitting in that fancy restaurant with him, just talking to him like they were mates.”  
  
“Merlin wouldn’t do that,” a new voice, presumably Edwin, replied. “He hates them just as much as the rest of us. I saw him rip one of their heads clean off once.”  
  
Merlin grimaced and let his head fall forward so that his forehead was pressed to Arthur’s. Arthur asked with his eyes if what Edwin said was true. Merlin’s pained returning look was answer enough.  
  
“That explains why he broke my arm when I called him out on being all buddy-buddy with the beast,” Mordred said sarcastically.  
  
“Hmm.”  
  
Mordred continued. “I swear I saw them go this way.”  
  
Merlin’s hand on Arthur’s mouth tightened as the vampires passed the alley. He pleaded with his eyes for Arthur to calm his breathing, slow his heartbeat.  
  
But Arthur couldn’t. Having Merlin so close, body practically flush against his own, the smell of him overpowering, staring at him so intently...it was strangely intoxicating.  
  
Merlin must have felt the same because as soon as the vampires’ voices faded from even their heightened hearing, his hand slid down to reveal Arthur’s lips and he leaned forward ever so slightly to bring their mouths together.  
  
A shot of arousal went straight to Arthur’s cock right as their lips touched. It was like a jolt of electricity that made all his senses suddenly more acute than usual, made him feel tingly all over.  
  
The taste is what surprised him the most. It wasn’t at all similar to the way Merlin smelled, which, as he spent more time with him, was beginning to be less and less pungent. It was a minty taste, like mouthwash but not as medical. It was sweet and cold, like mint ice cream.  
  
Arthur opened his mouth slightly, invited more of the flavour inside, and Merlin was quick to slip his tongue between Arthur’s parted lips. The taste must not have been that bad for Merlin either. One hand curled gently around Arthur’s neck while the other slid into his hair, while Arthur’s hands fell to Merlin’s hips and pulled their bodies closer together. Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise when he felt Arthur’s prodding erection against his thigh.  
  
Merlin swivelled his hips in slow circles, making Arthur moan in pleasure from the touch. Arthur felt he would come undone from that alone.  
  
“Not here,” Merlin said softly in Arthur’s ear. His voice was strained, but not wrecked like Arthur’s would have been. Arthur envied that vampires didn’t get breathless.  
  
“Yeah,” Arthur agreed quickly, not wanting to come in an alley. “Yeah.”  
  
“Mine?”  
  
Arthur’s answer was to squeeze Merlin’s arse impatiently and swipe his tongue over his bottom lip.  
  
“Alright then.”  
  
They couldn’t get there fast enough. Merlin insisted on taking the most intricate route possible to avoid Mordred and Edwin, pulling Arthur along at near inhuman speeds. Arthur thought if not for the mortal walkers of the night, Merlin would have put him on his back and carried him home.  
  
The walk back calmed Arthur a bit and gave him time to collect himself, as well as get his thoughts in order. Where Merlin was quiet and calculating, on guard for any vampires, Arthur was jumpy and impatient. He no longer had any hesitant feelings about being attracted to a man; he just wanted to get back to Merlin’s flat and fuck his brains out.  
  
Merlin’s cold hand in his own steadied him. For the second time that night he thought about how his life could have possibly taken this turn of events. It was strange, even by his standards. A werewolf and a vampire? Those sorts of things just didn’t happen. The two were sworn enemies.  
  
Arthur blinked and realised they’d stopped just outside Merlin’s building. Merlin was stroking the back of Arthur’s hand with his thumb.  
  
“Someone’s deep in thought,” he mused.  
  
“Just trying to make sense of things,” Arthur replied.  
  
“Don’t. Let’s leave sense for afterwards.”  
  
And then Arthur remembered just what “afterwards” meant and he was only too happy to comply.  
  
They didn’t take the lift. Once inside, Merlin did put Arthur on his back—despite Arthur’s protests—and ran up the stairs. With a practiced hand, the door to his flat was unlocked and they were standing in Merlin’s living room.  
  
“Not in here,” Merlin nodded, throwing his keys on the sofa, where they were sure to get lost in the cushions. Arthur followed Merlin to the bedroom, a voice in the back of his head telling him that this was different, he was special for being allowed to fuck Merlin in his own bed.  
  
And well, then Arthur couldn’t get out of his clothes fast enough.  
  
As soon as Merlin opened the door to his room, Arthur shoved him face first onto the bed. Merlin landed on his stomach and rolled over onto his back with a wicked grin.  
  
“Excited, are we?”  
  
Arthur pulled his shirt over his head so roughly it ripped at the seams. Merlin unbuttoned his own with agonising slowness, looking up at Arthur through long, dark lashes.  
  
Arthur watched Merlin undress himself with wide, staring eyes, taking in every sharp beautiful angle and each porcelain expanse of skin.  
  
“Come on, then,” Merlin challenged once he was laying open and inviting on the bed.  
  
Arthur straddled him, dug his knees into the mattress of either side of Merlin’s hips and smashed their lips together. Merlin arched his back, brought his own aching erection up to meet Arthur’s, and let out a filthy moan.  
  
“You...you smell like earth,” Merlin whispered into their kiss. “Like the gardens I used to tend to when I was alive. Like the harvest and herbs. Like the sweetest of flowers.” Merlin brought his hands down to rest on the globes of Arthur’s arse. “But it’s only now. Only when you’re hot for me.”  
  
A deep guttural sound escaped from low in Arthur’s throat as he grinded down into Merlin. Merlin’s hands seemed to be everywhere. One hand had wormed its way between their bodies and wrapped around Arthur’s stiff cock. Arthur whimpered and jerked his hips forward.  
  
“More,” Arthur said, voice hoarse from arousal.  
  
Merlin moved his other hand to his mouth and licked it till it was shining with saliva. He worked Arthur’s cock in his hand, making it wet and slippery, then lifted his legs high above his head, inviting Arthur to enter.  
  
“Condom?” Arthur was just coherent enough to ask.  
  
“I detest the things. They’re wholly unnecessary. For our kind anyway,” Merlin explained through his teeth. “Just get inside me, yeah?”  
  
Seeing Merlin on display for him, legs in the air...Arthur didn’t need to be told twice.  
  
Merlin cried out when Arthur thrust all the way in. Arthur froze, his cock seated full and happy inside.  
  
“God, don’t _stop!_ ” Merlin yelled. “I don’t feel pain, not like _that._ ” He moved his hips so he rocked back and forth a bit on Arthur’s prick and that was all it took to get Arthur started again.  
  
Arthur gripped Merlin’s thighs, the vampire’s legs settled over his shoulders. He would push slow and hard, ram into Merlin with so much force that his thighs ached from Merlin’s bony arse. Then he’d quicken his pace, tease Merlin with short little jerks that drove Merlin mad with pleasure and had him making the most glorious sounds.  
  
Merlin’s expression was pure bliss. His brows were pushed together at an upwards angle, eyes squeezed shut, chin tilted towards the ceiling since his head was thrown back. He was the image of a man that loved to be fucked and couldn’t get enough.  
  
And Arthur didn’t have to be gentle. His strength was only half that of Merlin’s while he was in human form but still considerably more than any mortal’s could wish to be. He could clutch Merlin’s legs, dig his fingernails into his skin and not even leave a bruise.  
  
Arthur was faintly aware that he was breathing through his mouth, panting so loud it seemed to be louder than even Merlin's moaning and the sound of their skin making contact. But Merlin wasn’t complaining. He himself was holding his breath, focusing only on the sweet sensation of Arthur’s cock sliding in and out of him.  
  
Then, out of nowhere, Merlin cried out again, this time screaming Arthur’s name as his orgasm painted his chest. Arthur hadn’t even touched his cock once. Was that normal with this type of sex?  
  
He sped up to hasten his own climax. He ran his fingers through the white hot mess on Merlin’s torso, felt how it differed so much from Merlin’s cold flesh.  
  
Merlin’s body was a mystery. His cock and orifices were deliciously warm but the rest of him was cold as ice. It was a surprisingly pleasant contrast.  
  
Merlin pulled him down, and as their lips met, Arthur came.  
  
His body shook as he throbbed his release into Merlin. Merlin closed his eyes as Arthur filled him, and only opened them once Arthur collapsed on the bed next to him. He rolled over onto his side and threw his leg over Arthur’s waist, come leaking out of his puckered arse.  
  
Draped across Arthur, Merlin pressed his ear to Arthur’s chest.  
  
“So fast,” Merlin mumbled. “Like music. I wish I still had a heartbeat.”  
  
Arthur remained silent, only raised his hand and stroked Merlin’s angled cheek. It was cold but strangely soft. Other parts of Merlin, like his arm or the planes of his chest, were like glass.  
  
“I can breathe, but it’s forced. Only out of habit.” As if to emphasise the point, Merlin sighed. “I’d give anything to have a pulse again. Even if it meant being a werewolf.”  
  
“I always thought...I didn’t realise you felt that way. That any vampire could. But it makes sense. It’s not your fault you crave blood any more than it’s my fault I walk on four legs when the moon is full.”  
  
“Arthur...”  
  
“It must be terribly lonely. You want someone, a friend maybe, but condemning anybody to such a life would be unforgivable. Not only to them, but to yourself. It’s no wonder vampires are always so bitter and angry. I can’t imagine the pain you must endure on a daily basis.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes softened. “You’re sweet,” he said with a small smile. “And understanding. Be my boyfriend. Or wolf-friend. Whatever.”  
  
“Not your pet?” Arthur asked, grinning.  
  
“Never. I’d only put a collar on you if you were into that sort of thing.”  
  
Arthur erupted with laughter. “I’m not, sorry.”  
  
“Good, because neither am I.”  
  
There was silence for a while as they just enjoyed each other’s company and Merlin listened to Arthur’s steady breathing. Then Arthur shifted uncomfortably.  
  
“We should, er, clean up.”  
  
“Oh. Right.”  
  
Suddenly Merlin wasn’t there, having moved at vampiric speed to go to the loo and get a wet cloth.  
  
“Shit, Merlin, do you have to do that?” Arthur cried out in surprise.  
  
Merlin laughed. “I scare you?” He walked out of the loo and across the room like a human.  
  
“How about a little warning next time?”  
  
He tossed the wet flannel to Arthur, who caught it easily. “Clean me up, yeah?” He got on the bed and got down on all fours so his leaking arse was in the air.  
  
Arthur swallowed and marvelled at the sight before him. His come leaking out of Merlin’s arse. A _vampire’s_ arse. Wonders never ceased.  
  
With one hand he spread Merlin’s cheeks apart and with the other he wiped down the majestic area. On a whim he slipped his thumb in to see if there was any more of his seed inside. There was.  
  
“Oh!” Merlin jumped.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“N-nothing to apologise for.”  
  
Arthur moved his thumb in circles experimentally and Merlin whined, then looked over his shoulder meaningfully.  
  
“Arthur, unless you want another mess to clean up...”  
  
“Right, sorry.”  
  
He finished and Merlin turned around, took the flannel from him and began wiping down his chest, brushing the dried bits out of his chest hair. With that all settled, he stood up and put his pants on, then slipped into the pair of trousers he’d thrown aside in his striptease for Arthur. Arthur began dressing as well.  
  
“Did you really rip someone’s head off?” Arthur asked. It seemed as good a time as any.  
  
Merlin looked up in surprise at the random question. “It was a werewolf, not a person.”  
  
Arthur froze and narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t heard right, surely.  
  
Merlin opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “Th-that’s not what I meant.”  
  
“Then what _did_ you mean?”  
  
“I...the way you asked. Made it seem like I’m some heartless killer than mutilates innocent people. It’s not like that, at least not anymore.” He finished buttoning his shirt and tugged it into place on his shoulders. “It wasn’t a mortal.”  
  
“So it was in self-defense?” Arthur asked.  
  
Merlin frowned. “Not exactly...”  
  
“Then what _exactly_ was it?” Arthur was getting angry. This was not good.  
  
“It was just a bit of fun!”  
  
“Oh, so now it’s ‘fun’ to slaughter my kind. I see.”  
  
“Don’t give me that! You said yourself you’ve never ‘embraced what you are’ or whatever. Don’t go defending them like you share some sort of bond.”  
  
“Even if I don’t, I’m no fan of genocide. What if I went around killing vampires just because I could?”  
  
Merlin laughed cynically. “Like that’ll happen! Even if you could somehow overpower us you’d be too distracted chasing your tail to notice anything.”  
  
“So you do include yourself with the rest of them then.”  
  
Merlin grabbed fistfuls of his anger in frustration. “Ugh! Arthur don’t twist my words like that. I don’t—” He stopped mid-sentence and listened. Arthur heard it too. Vampires approaching on the lift.  
  
“Get in here,” Merlin pulled Arthur towards the closet.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Just do it!”  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
“Fuck—Arthur.”  
  
Merlin shoved him into the closet so fast Arthur didn’t see him move. Damn vampire abilities.  
  
Arthur considered his options. He could A) leave Merlin’s flat via the fire escape or B) stay here and risk being ripped apart by hedonistic vampires. For some stupid reason—mainly because he wasn’t finished yelling at Merlin—Arthur went with B.  
  
“Be silent,” Merlin whispered as he left his room.  
  
The telly turned on in the living room just as there was a knock on the front door. Merlin went to answer it and standing in the doorway was Edwin and Mordred.  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t exactly expecting you tonight. Or any night,” Merlin said as a greeting. “Since when do we show up at each other’s homes?”  
  
“Since you break my bloody arm over a werewolf is when!” Mordred shouted.  
  
Both Edwin and Merlin hushed him, then looked down the hallway to see if anyone had heard.  
  
“For fuck’s sake, come in, then,” Merlin waved them inside.  
  
They settled themselves on the sofa and gave the place a once-over, having never been to Merlin’s place of residence before.  
  
Merlin got right to the point. “I did break Mordred’s arm.”  
  
“See! I told ya!” Mordred said, pointing at Edwin. Edwin just rolled his eyes.  
  
“I’m sure he had a reason for doing so. I’ve wanted to break your bones a few times myself,” Edwin replied.  
  
“There _was_ a werewolf involved. He works with me,” Merlin explained. “You remember the job I told you about. At the hospital?” Edwin nodded, so Merlin went on. “He’s not as terribly obnoxious as the other wolves. I didn’t want to make an enemy of him right off the bat, considering I have to spend hours a night with him in the building, so I tried to be nice to him, take him to the Tomb. But it’s not like I’m friends with him. God, could you even imagine? No, he’s more like a strategic acquaintance.”  
  
Edwin seemed to accept the explanation but Mordred shook his head. “No way. I saw you in that restaurant with him, smiling like you were all besotted. There’s no way he’s just an ‘acquaintance.’”  
  
“What has that got to do with anything?” Merlin said, palms up. “He got hungry so I fed him. And you wouldn’t know the difference between besotted and charming if it was staring you in the face. I have to get him to like me if I want to be able to sleep and not worry about getting my throat ripped out every day.”  
  
Edwin crossed his arms and looked to Mordred, amused. “Anything to say to that?”  
  
Mordred huffed in anger. “Fine. But I still don’t like it.”  
  
“You don’t have to like it. I’m your superior, remember?” Merlin smirked.  
  
Mordred fumed. Edwin stood.  
  
“Come on, Mordred, it’s getting on towards dawn.”  
  
The pair of them walked out and Merlin waited until he heard the lift descend before rushing to his bedroom.  
  
“Arthur,” he whispered, opening the closet door.  
  
Arthur glared at him. “‘Strategic acquaintance,’ huh? What happened to boyfriend?”  
  
Merlin pulled him into an embrace and buried his face in his neck. “That was just for them. You know I consider you so much more than that.”  
  
Arthur sighed but returned the hug. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”  
  
Merlin lifted his head to meet Arthur’s eyes. “I know. The whole ripping-a-wolf’s-head-off thing...it was a long time ago. I was a different person. A bit like Mordred, actually, much as I hate to admit it. But I was young.” He cupped Arthur’s face in his hand. “That doesn’t excuse my behaviour, though. I’m sorry. But you have to realise I never thought I’d end up,” he gestured to their bodies. “You know.”  
  
Arthur chuckled a bit. “Yeah, this is a bit weird, isn’t it?”  
  
“A bit,” Merlin agreed, smiling.  
  
Suddenly Arthur’s eyes were wide and his breath caught in his throat. “Um. Merlin.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“T-turn around.”  
  
Merlin did so, and there, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, was Edwin.  
  
“Edwin!” Merlin jumped out of Arthur’s arms. He looked over the vampire’s shoulder. “Is Mordred...?”  
  
“I sent him home.”  
  
“I can explain.”  
  
“Don’t bother,” Edwin snapped. “I’ve heard enough. I didn’t want to believe it. You’re my oldest friend and now I find you making love to the enemy.”  
  
“We weren’t—”  
  
“But you have. I can smell it. This room reeks of werewolf.”  
  
Arthur gulped and clutched the fabric of Merlin’s shirt. Merlin gave him what he hoped was a comforting glance, then turned to face Edwin.  
  
“Please don’t tell anyone.”  
  
Edwin snorted. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But you can hardly expect this to remain a secret for long. We’re not the only vampire coven in this city. And I don’t think his pack will be too pleased either.”  
  
“Arthur doesn’t belong to any pack,” Merlin replied.  
  
“Is that his name, then? Arthur?” Edwin shifted his gaze to Arthur. “That true, Arthur? You an Omega?”  
  
Arthur wasn't sure what that was, but if was a fancy term for 'lone wolf,' then he guessed that's what he was. He nodded, then said firmly, “I am.”  
  
“I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. With no one to protect you, you’ll be easy prey. But then you’ve also no one you can betray.” Edwin looked meaningfully at Merlin.  
  
Arthur stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Merlin from behind. “That’s not true. I have Merlin. And he has me,” he declared boldly. “And if anyone tries to take him from me I’ll tear them to shreds.” He didn't know where the sudden swell of affection was coming from, but it felt instinctively right to ally himself with Merlin.  
  
“Arthur...” Merlin touched his hand to Arthur’s on his stomach.  
  
Edwin sneered. “I wouldn’t make any threats, dog. You have no idea who Merlin is.”  
  
Arthur lifted one hand and extended his nails into a claw, the one thing he _could_ do while in human form.  
  
“You gonna scratch me?” Edwin laughed. “Keep your pet under control, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes went black with anger. **“Don't call him that!”**  
  
Edwin stepped back. Merlin’s voice seemed to come from within the walls, vibrating the whole room and penetrating deep into their bones. Arthur thought for a moment that it was like the voice of a god.  
  
Edwin straightened up. “Never in more than two hundred years of friendship have you spoken to me that way,” he said softly. “To think that you’d do so now, over such filth, is an injury to me. Your son would kill you for even shaking hands with the beast, yet I offered to turn my cheek upon discovering you laid with him.”  
  
“You’re still my friend, Edwin. But Arthur is my friend too. You’ll have to accept that if you want our friendship to continue. And I sincerely hope you do.”  
  
“Our bond will _not_ be broken because of a werewolf. I refuse to let that be.”  
  
“Then I have your word you’ll keep our secret?”  
  
Edwin nodded solemnly. “You do.”  
  
Then Edwin disappeared. Arthur let his head fall forward onto Merlin’s shoulder and let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.  
  
Merlin raised a hand and curled his fingers in Arthur’s hair. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”  
  
Arthur turned him around and looked into his eyes. “‘More than two hundred years of friendship?’ You lied to me about your age.”  
  
Merlin grimaced. “I was going to tell you about that. I may be a little bit older than a century.”  
  
“And you have a son?”  
  
“No. That’s just what we call our vampiric offspring sometimes. Technically I gave birth to Mordred since I brought him into this life, but he’s no blood relative. All my real family is dead.”  
  
“So exactly how old are you?”  
  
“Three hundred forty-seven. That’s how long I’ve been a vampire anyways. I was twenty-seven when I died.”  
  
“So you’re actually...?”  
  
“Three hundred seventy-four. My 375th birthday will be on Beltane.”  
  
“How did you die?”  
  
“The Great Plague in 1665.”  
  
Arthur faintly remembered learning about it in school. To think Merlin had _been_ there, had _died_ there was impossible.  
  
“That’s...wow. I’m only 49.” Suddenly Arthur panicked. “What if I die before you? I don’t think I’m immortal...”  
  
The statement seemed to pain Merlin. Did he suddenly feel like he wanted the spend of rest of existence together or was that just Arthur?  
  
“We’ll figure something out,” Merlin said, rubbing Arthur’s shoulder. “If all else fails I’ll just kill myself when you’re gone.”  
  
Arthur frowned. “But I could get old and ugly, and you’ll stay just as perfect as—”  
  
“Don’t worry about it for now. Let’s just focus on the present.”  
  
Arthur closed his eyes and sighed then fluttered his eyelids open. “Yeah. Alright.”

****

  
A little over a month went by. Merlin was sure to hang out in his coven’s lounge at least two hours on his nights off to keep up appearances, immersing himself in mortal crowds to hide the potency Arthur's scent as best he could. Edwin would look at Merlin thoughtfully on occasion, seeing right through his act, but said nothing. Things returned to normal, the only difference being that Merlin was having sex with a werewolf nearly every night right after work—and sometimes during if the hospital wasn’t particularly busy. Even Mordred had returned to his usual annoying self.  
  
Then the full moon came, the fourth lunar cycle that Merlin had known Arthur, and they had the whole night planned. It was a Saturday so neither of them had work.  
  
Merlin would go straight to the lounge when the sun set. He’d stay there until midnight when Arthur changed, then they’d meet on the outskirts of the city. Once outside the city limits, they could do whatever they wanted.  
  
At 11:50 p.m. Merlin excused himself from the lounge. Nimmie was there so he wouldn’t be missed all that much. And he wanted to feed before he met Arthur. Though Arthur could run almost as fast as he could in wolf form, he’d have to take back streets to get out of the city, whereas Merlin could walk amongst humans no problem. So Merlin had plenty of time.  
  
He went to a crowded part of the city and took a man who was too focused on his phone to notice his surroundings. His blood was thick and warm and taste like hot cocoa. Merlin only barely stopped himself and set the man down on the ground in a limbless lump with a sigh. He wanted more and surely another wouldn’t hurt. He was _so_ thirsty.  
  
He couldn’t pick from the same group of people twice, so he went somewhere closer to the edge of the city. She was sweet like strawberries and sugar.  
  
Merlin thought he could go for one more but the time was getting away from him. It was five minutes past midnight. He found Arthur scratching himself at their meeting place.  
  
“Sorry,” he said as greeting. “Was thirsty.”  
  
Arthur barked and started trotting off. Right. They only had about six hours till dawn.  
  
They ran for ten minutes, which, at their speed, allowed them to cover about eighty miles. They stopped way out in the middle of nowhere, where the grass was so tall it reached Merlin’s waist.  
  
Merlin laid out and stared at the stars and Arthur stretched out beside him. He nudged the vampire with his wet nose and, laughing, Merlin began to stroke the soft fur.  
  
Time went slowly for their kind, even if they did have only so long left in the night. They stayed like that an hour before Arthur jumped up and barked until Merlin got up too.  
  
“What is it?” Merlin asked.  
  
As soon as Merlin was vertical Arthur tackled him and pinned him to the ground. Merlin lay bewildered a few seconds then realised from Arthur’s spread lips—a wolfish grin—that it was a game. Arthur was proving that he could take Merlin in a fight.  
  
“You wanna go, then?” Merlin challenged. Arthur barked and his grin seemed to widen. “Alright.”  
  
Merlin pushed up with full force (well, not _full_ force. He didn’t want to hurt Arthur.) and flung him off to the side where Arthur landed roughly, kicking up a cloud of dust.  
  
Arthur took only a second to gather himself. He sprinted at top speed into Merlin like a bull and sent the vampire flying backwards a hundred feet. Merlin landed with a grunt and his invincible body made a man-shaped hole in the ground.  
  
He got up and dusted himself off then crouched low in an offensive stance. He looked the same way he had on the night they first met, only now his teasing smirk was more affectionate.  
  
They ran towards each other at the same time and came together with a loud clash. They locked in a stalemate, each pushing equally hard against the other’s shoulders. Merlin had a look of surprised concentration on his face that made Arthur snort with laughter.  
  
“Maybe you are a bit stronger than I thought,” Merlin said through clenched teeth. "Been a while since I fought a werewolf."  
  
In his stance he was eye-level with Arthur, who usually came up to his neck when he stood straight. Arthur’s eyes stared challengingly into Merlin’s. They were huge rolling balls turning in their sockets deep in Arthur’s skull. He was just as concentrated as Merlin was.  
  
Then Arthur’s paw slid back an inch in the dirt and that ended him. Merlin had him pinned on his side in a matter of seconds.  
  
“Ha!” Merlin yelled victoriously. “You’re strong, but not strong enough, Pendragon.”  
  
Merlin was standing over Arthur triumphantly when suddenly there was a loud growl behind him that shook his frame. He turned around slowly and met the eyes of two werewolves, one with fur black as night and the other a contrasting snow white. The white wolf was smaller, just a pup.  
  
Merlin got off Arthur slowly. “Hello there,” he greeted them cautiously.  
  
The white wolf barked and the black one grunted at him. Arthur righted himself and shook his fur free of dust. He stepped in front of Merlin, guarding him from the wolves’ intense glares. When he spoke, Merlin heard only barking.  
  
“Leon,” Arthur addressed the black wolf. “I told you I want no part of your pack. Why've you followed me here, and who's he?”  
  
“Lancelot,” the white wolf said. “I’m the one that spotted the leech and saw him meet you outside the city. I went and got Leon and we followed your scent here.”  
  
“And he was right to bring me,” Leon declared. “I’ve never heard of such detestable behaviour.”  
  
“Either way, I’m not associated with you. I don’t owe you any explanation or apology,” Arthur said.  
  
“That may be true, but we have our safety to think about. If the vampires were to witness this, they’d be sure to find a reason to attack us.”  
  
“They don’t know. The only one who does has promised to keep quiet.”  
  
“And you trust him?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Just what is your relationship to this bloodsucker?” Leon asked.  
  
“What does that matter to you?”  
  
Merlin stepped forward. “Arthur? Is everything alright?” he questioned, curling his fingers in Arthur’s neck fur.  
  
Arthur turned his head to the side, gesturing for Merlin to get behind him while he handled this.  
  
Merlin shook his head. “No. I’m staying right here.”  
  
“The leech is bold,” Leon commented. “Interesting how he is willing to stand by your side as an equal only minutes after holding you to the ground.”  
  
“That was for fun,” Arthur explained. “You know, like wrestling between mates?”  
  
“That’s what he is to you then? A friend?”  
  
“Yes,” Arthur said firmly. “And I’ll give you the same warning I gave to the vampire: if you try to take him from me I’ll tear you to shreds.”  
  
Arthur’s body had started to shake with an impending growl and Merlin stroked his fur soothingly. Lancelot took the action to be degrading, like Arthur was some rabid dog to be calmed, and he snapped his teeth in Merlin’s direction. Merlin flinched but then he stepped forward and yelled at the white wolf.  
  
“If you’ve a problem with me, don’t make empty threats. I’ll take you right here and now,” he challenged.  
  
Lancelot growled ferociously, hair on his back sticking straight up in anger. Leon shot him a look and Lancelot backed down, but was still on edge.  
  
Arthur, similarly, nudged Merlin’s shoulder and Merlin returned to his side.  
  
“He started it,” the vampire mumbled and crossed his arms.  
  
“Only because of the way he had his hands on Arthur,” Lancelot barked out.  
  
“I _let_ him do that, you idiot. If you had any brains, you’d know that,” Arthur replied.  
  
“You let him treat you like a pet?”  
  
“No. It’s not like that at all. And Merlin knows that. It’s something we both agreed on,” he explained to the younger wolf. “I don’t insult his kind and he doesn’t insult mine.”  
  
Lancelot sniffed derisively but remained silent the rest of the time. Leon stared at Merlin intensely. The vampire held the gaze steadily.  
  
“Very well then. We’ll leave you to yourselves,” the elder wolf declared. “But when the vampires do eventually find out about this, I want to know whose side you’re on.”  
  
Arthur didn’t hesitate. “Merlin’s side.”  
  
Leon sniffed. “Hmm.”  
  
He nodded at Lancelot and the two of them ran off into the night. Arthur’s shoulders sagged in relief.  
  
“Glad that’s over,” Merlin said, agreeing with Arthur’s expression. “Why can’t everyone just leave us be? What’s so bad about a vampire being with a werewolf?”  
  
Arthur gave Merlin an incredulous stare.  
  
“Okay, I mean, I would have thought the same as Edwin just a short time ago, but that was before I got to know you. If everyone just sat down and talked to each other maybe we wouldn’t be such fierce enemies.”  
  
Arthur sighed and sat on his haunches. His cynicism was audible even in his sighs as a wolf.  
  
“Yeah. That’d be like trying to get the Catholics and the Protestants to be friendly. Oh!” Merlin slapped his head. “Today’s my birthday!”  
  
Arthur threw his head back and started howling. Merlin had never heard him do anything more than bark before so his fascination at the sight slowed down his realisation that Arthur was _singing_. The tune was a bit off-pitch, but there was no mistaking the rhythm. Arthur was definitely howling Happy Birthday to him.  
  
Merlin erupted with laughter. When Arthur got to the second verse, Merlin threw his arms up and shouted “Three seventy-five!” with a big dopey grin on his face. He skipped in a circle around Arthur, until the large wolf rolled over him and while he was squished beneath the weight he grabbed hold of the fur and was sitting on Arthur’s back once the roll was completed.  
  
Arthur barked and stood up on his hind legs, trying to shake Merlin off, but Merlin held tight.  
  
“Bet I can stay on for a whole three minutes,” Merlin jeered.  
  
Arthur accepted the challenge and proceeded to jump and shake as vigorously as he could. Merlin almost fell off a couple of times, especially when Arthur stood on hind legs and fell over onto his back, but he held on the whole time.  
  
“Aha! Victorious again!” Merlin announced, springing off of Arthur’s back with grace. “We really should find a game you’re good at. This is getting pathetic.”  
  
Arthur sniffed the ground and headed east. Merlin trailed behind him, curious. Then they got to a river and Merlin understood.  
  
“Oh, I see. Very funny, Arthur. You know I can’t cross running water,” Merlin put his hands on his hips. “That’s cheating.”  
  
Arthur backed up a few steps to getting a head start then ran and bounded across the river in a single leap. When he landed on the other side, he turned and barked out laughter at Merlin.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on then, it’s nearly four.”  
  
Arthur jumped back over and licked Merlin’s face. Merlin wiped the wolf spit off his cheek while Arthur drank from the river. Arthur’s tongue lapped up the water and splashed it around.  
  
Merlin tapped his foot impatiently. “Arthur, come _on._ I think we should spend the last two hours in the city. More shadows available if the sun comes up earlier. It _is_ Beltane, you know.”  
  
The truth was that Merlin wanted to fully quench his thirst before the end of the night. But he didn’t want to tell Arthur that just yet.  
  
Their run back to the city took only nine minutes. Merlin led him to one of the places they’d been to on the last full moon and told Arthur to stay there.  
  
“I mean it in the least offensive way possible. I really just need you to stay here while I go take care of something,” Merlin said.  
  
Arthur tilted his head to the side in inquiry.  
  
“Please, Arthur. I don’t want—I don’t want you to watch...”  
  
Arthur understood then but still didn’t want to stay behind. He wanted to go with Merlin. Not to oversee him and make sure he didn’t kill anyone, but out of genuine curiosity of seeing Merlin in his element. Watching him feed now that he saw Merlin in a new light would be different.  
  
Arthur shook his head “no.” Merlin sighed. “Fine, but just...stick to the shadows, okay?”  
  
Merlin peeked around the corner of the alley before stepping into the lamplight. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to look as innocent as possible, just an ordinary man walking home from a late night out.  
  
Luckily it was Saturday and people were still on the streets even at four in the morning. In this part of the city it was mostly whores, homeless people, and druggies, but there were a few university age kids out, too poor to afford respectable pubs.  
  
Merlin frowned at the options. Then, like a godsend, Merlin saw a posh couple stumbling on the pavement, obviously pissed out of their minds. They were walking towards him so all he had to do was wait until they passed and stop them.  
  
“Come on, John, we’re almost there,” the woman was saying to the man leaning heavily on her shoulder. “Just a few more streets down and you can crash.”  
  
“Let me lie on the pavement Freya, please, just a couple minutes,” John mumbled.  
  
Merlin put a hand out to stop them. “Excuse me,” he said in a thick Irish accent. “Could you help me? I’ve lost my friend Tom, and I’ve no idea how to get back to our hotel.”  
  
The woman looked up at Merlin with wide, shining brown eyes. Her long dark hair fell like a curtain across her shoulders. She was the only one to respond, or even acknowledge the seemingly lost Irishman.  
  
“I’m a bit occupied at the moment, but I’m sure someone in one of the pubs will be glad to help you.”  
  
She started walking again but Merlin stopped her with a hand on the empty shoulder. “No, wait, please. At least let me use your mobile. I remember Tom’s number by heart. I think.”  
  
Freya sighed and took John’s arm from over her shoulder, steadied him to make sure he wouldn’t fall over, then rummaged in her bag for her mobile.  
  
“Thank you, thank you!” Merlin said, reaching out to take it. “I’ll just be a moment.”  
  
He disappeared into the shadows of the alley behind him and unlocked the phone with a swipe of his thumb. The screen lit up his face in the dark and he pretended to dial a number. After thirty seconds of being on a pretend call, he threw the device to the ground, smashing it to pieces.  
  
Freya looked up at the sound of something breaking and stepped into the alley. “Hey, what was that?” she asked to the dark. “Hey, mister, you done yet?”  
  
As soon as she was fully in the shadows Merlin came up behind her and put a hand over her mouth to stifle her screams. He tilted her head to the side to expose her neck and bit into the vein greedily. She stopped squirming after ten seconds and slumped to the ground when Merlin was done with her.  
  
Merlin licked his lips. “Wow, you’re good,” he muttered. He bent down and searched until he found her ID. He took note of the address. “Freya Thomas. I’ll definitely be seeing you again.”  
  
He threw her ID aside, crawled over her, and pressed his nose deep into her neck. He repeated the action all down her body and circled back up, stopping at her hair. He grabbed a fistful of it and buried his face in it, inhaling the sweet scent. That’s when he felt something prodding into his side.  
  
“Hm? Oh, Arthur.” Merlin stood up, embarrassed. “Right. I think your flat is closer. Want to head there?”  
  
Arthur hesitated before nodding. Merlin stepped over the girl and walked into the lit pavement while Arthur looked on at the prone woman.  
  
“Oi!” the drunk named John called. “Where’d Freya go?”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Think she dropped her mobile. You should go help her find it.” He didn’t even bother with the Irish accent.  
  
“Nah,” John drawled. “She’s good at finding things. I’ll just wait here.” He slumped against the wall and closed his eyes.  
  
“Arthur?” Merlin looked over his shoulder. “You coming?”  
  
Arthur sniffed and trotted to the darkest part of the pavement, trying to hunch in on himself to appear like a normal dog. It was pointless. No normal dog stood as tall as a small horse.  
  
They made it back to Arthur’s flat just before 5:00 a.m. They took the fire escape up (since obviously Arthur couldn’t go in through the front door) and went straight to Arthur’s room.  
  
Arthur jumped up on his bed and turned in circles for two minutes before finally laying down. His paws dirtied up the blankets but he didn’t seem to mind in his current form. Rearranged priorities indeed.  
  
Merlin flitted about the flat, closing the curtains and blocking out any possible entry for sunlight. It was just in time. The sky on the other side of the city was turning pink. Merlin sighed and walked back to Arthur’s room. It’d been almost four centuries since he saw the sun.  
  
He froze in the doorway. Arthur was asleep and changing. The last of his thick fur had just disappeared into his skin when Merlin walked in. He looked like an overgrown Peruvian hairless dog. Then his paws turned into hands and feet, his nose contracted to its normal length, and his limbs returned to their original human bone structure. Arthur slept through the whole thing.  
  
Suddenly Merlin felt exhausted. He practically fell into bed beside Arthur, and in doing so woke up the sleeping werewolf.  
  
Arthur gasped and his hands flew to his arms, then his chest and legs, checking his human-ness.  
  
“Sorry,” Merlin said. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”  
  
“At least let me get under the duvet this time,” Arthur mumbled. “I hate waking up naked and cold.”  
  
“I wouldn’t mind the first part,” Merlin replied as they lifted the blanket and got inside the warmth.  
  
“I know you wouldn’t.” Arthur eyebrows pushed together and up. “This is going to sound awful, but could you maybe move over? You’re kind of not helping the whole getting warm situation.”  
  
Merlin swallowed the hurt and complied. “Yeah, sorry.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Merlin ducked his head under the blanket and curled up in a ball, trying to take up the least amount of space possible, and preventing being burned if a stray beam of sunlight did make its way into the room.  
  
For the first time in a while, Merlin truly ached. Now he was certain there were two things he’d never get to do again: play in a sunny meadow and sleep in the arms of the person he loved.

****

  
Arthur woke up slowly. His room was completely dark though his clock read 15:56. There was a lump under the blanket on his left. Merlin.  
  
It would be a while yet until the vampire awoke. It was the first of May, nearly two months until the summer solstice, and the days were getting steadily longer. Soon they’d have less time to themselves than before.  
  
Arthur slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Merlin. Like all other mornings after a full moon he went straight to the shower. He was particularly dirty this time because he’d been rolling around in the dirt.  
  
He smiled at the memory. He’d been able to hold his own against Merlin in a fight, and Merlin’s look of surprise was priceless.  
  
In the shower Arthur’s mind wandered to the rest of the night, namely to when he watched Merlin feed on the girl. It was frightening seeing Merlin slip into the charming vampire role so easily, the tone of his voice smooth and his expression coy to win the girl over. He was deceptive and _good_ at it.  
  
Then he’d seen Merlin crouch over her like some sort of animal himself and take big lungfuls of her scent. “I’ll definitely be seeing you again,” Merlin had said. Merlin’s voice had been cold and dry, grating almost, and it still unnerved Arthur just remembering it.  
  
When he got out of the shower he leaned in the doorframe and watched the lump in his blanket rise and fall as Merlin breathed in his sleep. It was still _Merlin_. Still the same man who’d insulted him and threatened him, then somehow wormed his way into Arthur’s heart after killing Ms Le Fay. Well, that wasn’t the only thing that did it. It all started with the blowjob, _then_ the Le Fay ordeal, and then the night they spent walking around, the night Merlin had slept over the first time.  
  
Maybe Arthur had been taking this nice Merlin for granted. The vampire could change from a skipping, laughing, carefree man to a sly, deceiving bloodsucker in a heartbeat. He’d just never really thought about it before.  
  
Arthur sighed and shook his head as if to send the bad thoughts away. He got dressed and went to his fridge. He hadn’t eaten anything the night before, at least not when he was changed, and he was ravenous.  
  
He was too hungry to cook anything so he searched for something he could eat immediately and frowned at the options. Apples, oranges, pudding, carrots, cucumbers, and leftover pizza from a couple days ago. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.  
  
As Arthur grabbed the pizza he noticed the whole chicken he’d put in there a few days back. He licked his lips. Maybe after the pizza he’d be satisfied enough to take a few minutes to cook the bird.  
  
He tore into the cold pizza hungrily and moaned at the deliciousness. His stomach rumbled at the promise of food to digest. It felt like he’d gone days without sustenance instead of mere hours.  
  
He raided the fridge again for something to drink. All he had was water, orange juice, and milk. He grabbed the milk and chugged it straight from the container. Some of it dribbled down the sides of his mouth as he lifted it more and more vertical.  
  
When that was empty he went for the apples. Maybe something more difficult to chew would tire out his jaws and he’d slow down. His stomach felt like a bottomless pit that could never be satisfied.  
  
In a hope to distract himself, he turned on the telly while he bit into apple after apple. It worked. He got lost in Rules of Engagement, stupid as he thought it was, for thirty minutes, then How I Met Your Mother for another thirty before deciding, fuck cooking, he was going to eat that chicken raw and nobody was going to stop him.  
  
Arthur ripped the chicken out of its seal and set it down on the counter, trussed and plump. He flayed the wings out and tore away the excess fat at the back. Then he leaned down over it and took a huge bite out of the breast.  
  
It wasn’t terrible, in fact Arthur liked it more than he thought he should. It was juicy and tender and delicious.  
  
Attacking the breast straight on hadn’t been a good plan. It was much more efficient to tear off the wings first and strip those clean of meat. Then he moved to the legs and devoured them to the bone. Finally, he was left with the main portion of the bird. He ripped it apart so it was open flat, took out the icky yellow bits then dove in. He didn’t notice the sun go down or Merlin watching from the bedroom door.  
  
Merlin surveyed the room. Apple cores littered the coffee table, an empty milk carton was tossed aside on the counter beside Arthur, a similarly empty pizza box was sticking out of the rubbish bin, and the fridge itself was still wide open.  
  
His eyes fell back to Arthur and he chuckled. Arthur jumped, startled.  
  
“Merlin!” Arthur wiped his mouth on his sleeve and stepped away from the chicken guiltily. “You’re awake.”  
  
“How observant of you.”  
  
“I, um...was hungry.”  
  
Merlin laughed again. “I see that. Don’t stop on my account.”  
  
Arthur hesitated at first but then went at the chicken with just as much ferocity as before. Merlin began cleaning up Arthur’s mess, starting with the apple cores. He was just about to put the chicken bones in his hand and toss them when Arthur swatted his hand away and elbowed Merlin in the stomach.  
  
“Well, _sorry_ Doctor Wolf,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes but smiling.  
  
“I’m not a doctor yet,” Arthur replied, licking the largest bone.  
  
“Close enough.”  
  
“Were you ever a doctor?” Arthur asked. “You know, before.”  
  
“You mean out of the many professions I’ve held in my centuries of living?” Arthur nodded. “No. I’ve been many things, but a doctor was never one of them,” Merlin said sadly. “When I was able to withstand seeing blood without going crazy, I thought about it. But I didn’t pursue it. Too risky.”  
  
“And it’s not now?”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “I don’t have any ambition to rise above a porter. There’s blood involved sometimes but mostly it’s taking care of long-term patients and cleaning up the messes nobody else wants to. I bet as a nurse you see a lot.”  
  
“A bit.” He finished sucking the bones and scooped them up in his hand to throw them away. “What else have you done?”  
  
Merlin’s eyes got a faraway look. “I’ve been many things,” he repeated. “In the 1800s I fancied myself a writer. You know, when romanticism was big?” He laughed. “I’ll never forget Lord Byron. He was...he was sure something.”  
  
“You knew Lord Byron?!” Arthur gaped.  
  
“I guess you could say that.” Merlin had a suggestive smile that said he more than just knew Byron, but was rather acquainted with him.  
  
“Wow. What else?”  
  
“A soldier a couple times, under different names, of course. First was the American Revolution and I hated that so much I didn’t enlist again until World War Two.” He shook his head in remembrance. “I was never thirsty during those times. I fed on the weak and dying. A lot of men asked me to turn them...I swore after that I’d never go to war again.”  
  
“Did you turn them?”  
  
Merlin’s eyes hardened. “No. I didn’t want the competition on the feeding grounds.”  
  
It was obviously a sore subject for him so Arthur didn’t press it. But then, war was always hard to talk about, for anyone.  
  
“What else have you been?”  
  
“Custodian, professor, librarian, miner, mechanic,” Merlin listed. “Pretty much anything that can be done at night.”  
  
“What did you teach as a professor?”  
  
“World languages. I’ve travelled a lot as well.”  
  
“Like where?” Arthur asked. He’d only ever been out of the country once, to Wales. And that didn’t even really count.  
  
“The UK obviously. I spent most of my life in England, but I grew up in Wales. I’ve been to Ireland, America, Russia, China, India, France, Germany, Italy, and Spain.” He grew strangely serious.  
“I’ll have to take you to Spain one day. They really know how to party in Spain.”  
  
Arthur laughed. “Okay. So why’d you teach languages when you could have taught history? I thought that would have been the obvious choice.”  
  
Merlin snorted. “Are you kidding me? History is a farce. Everything’s a lie. Well, most of it. Have you ever read _Gulliver’s Travels_?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Read it some time. I told Jonathan the majority of the information for his ghosts from what I’ve learned from other vampires. I wanted the truth out there even if it was in the form of fiction.”  
  
“I’ll definitely work in some time to read it,” Arthur said, chuckling.  
  
“I have ten copies on hand at all times. You can have one.”  
  
“Oh, alright then.”  
  
“Anyways, all my other jobs were shite. The only fun one was being a writer.”  
  
“Were you good at it?” Arthur asked.  
  
“No, I was terrible!” Merlin laughed. “Didn’t make it any less fun. But enough about me. I want to know about your previous loves.”  
  
Merlin put his elbows on the counter and rested his chin in his hands like a child. His eyes were wide with anticipation.  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. The question was so random. “Why? They’re nothing compared to you.”  
  
“Stop flattering me and go on.”  
  
Arthur shrugged. “Okay. There was only one real one, when I was twenty-six. Which was actually a long time ago now that I think about it. The others were just your usual teenage romances. Anyway, her name was Vivian.”  
  
“‘Her?’”  
  
“Yeah,” Arthur smirked a bit. “You thought I was gay?”  
  
Merlin made a face. “You fuck better than Byron. How was I to know?”  
  
Arthur took in the fact that Merlin just said he satisfied him better than Lord Fucking Byron with a deep breath. Then he went on. “Okay, well, Vivian was a bit mental. Not in the stalker girlfriend sort of way, but in the superiority kind of way. She thought she was better than everyone. Talked down to me, like I was just barely worthy of being with her. Drove me fucking mad.”  
  
“Why’d you get with her in the first place?”  
  
“Like I can remember. It’s been a couple decades. But it was probably because of her looks.”  
  
Merlin leaned forward. “ _Do_ you age? I've never let a werewolf live long enough to ask, and it wasn't really something discussed when I was younger.”  
  
Arthur frowned, ignoring Merlin's statement about killing his kind. “Can’t say for sure. You know I was twenty-nine when I was bitten but it’s hard to determine my physical age. I still _feel_ twenty-nine, but for all I know my body could be thirty-six.”  
  
“You said you were forty-nine. That means you’ve been twenty-nine for twenty years.”  
  
“That’s right.”  
  
“Hmm.” Merlin reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek, then pinched the skin and pulled it. He did this on various parts of Arthur’s face and neck.  
  
“May I ask what the hell you’re doing?” Arthur inquired in a reedy voice when Merlin was pinching his nose.  
  
Merlin took back his hand. “You seem pretty young. It’s a shame you’re an Omega. Otherwise you could ask how the whole aging thing works.”  
  
“Maybe I don’t have to be mates with them. Maybe they’ll tell me if I just ask. They seem to be all about ‘protecting their own’ and whatnot. I think they’d gladly give me information.”  
  
“Then let’s go find them.”  
  
“Seriously? Right now?”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Arthur could think of a couple reasons. “Because it’s not safe? Because we don’t have the slightest idea where they could be, or if they even hang out in a group like your coven does. Because you’ll be one vampire walking into a room with who knows how many wolves wanting to kill you?”  
  
“I actually know the answer to some of those questions, but either way it sounds like an adventure,” Merlin remarked, smiling.  
  
Arthur shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”  
  
“But that’s why you love me!” Merlin threw his arms up excitedly.  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s more the cheekbones than anything else,” he muttered and immediately flushed red.  
  
Merlin wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You liking them?” He turned his face to the side so that the light created shadows under them.  
  
“Oh, get over yourself!” Arthur pushed him playfully. “Are we doing this or not?”  
  
“Oh, we’re doing this alright. But I’m not going anywhere in yesterday’s clothes.”  
  
“You vampires and your precious sense of style,” Arthur mocked.  
  
“I’d like to see you live this long without taking some pride in your personal appearance,” Merlin countered. “And you forget I haven’t seen my reflection in centuries. I’ll be back in five minutes.”  
  
He placed a firm kiss on Arthur’s lips then disappeared. Arthur sighed and decided to take out the rubbish. It was bursting and beginning to stink up the whole flat.  
  
On his way back up he noticed a tall, muscular figure in the shadows watching him. Just then the wind picked up and Arthur smelled the scent in the air. Werewolf.  
  
His heart started racing and he walked determinedly up to the man in the shadows, surprised when the man didn't try to flee. “Who are you?” he demanded.  
  
“Depends. Are you Arthur Pendragon?”  
  
“I am.”  
  
The werewolf stuck his hand out.  
  
“Tell me your name first,” Arthur said.  
  
“Percival.”  
  
Arthur shook Percival’s hand then crossed his arms. “Why are you here? Why are spying on me?”  
  
Percival shifted uneasily. “I was sent. You weren’t exactly supposed to know I was here.”  
  
“Who sent you?” Arthur stopped him before he could speak. “Wait. I know. It was Leon, wasn’t it?”  
  
Percival just nodded.  
  
Arthur sighed and rubbed his neck. “Alright, well. I actually need to talk to him about something. I suppose you’d better come on up.”  
  
Percival nodded again and followed Arthur mutely up to his flat. Merlin was there looking around for him.  
  
“Arthur! You frightened me! I thought maybe Edwin had—” He froze, then was abruptly on the other side of the room. “Who’s this?” he asked, crouched low in defence, fangs flashing.  
  
“Percival,” Arthur introduced. “I caught him spying on me when I was emptying the bin.”  
  
“I knew we couldn’t trust Leon. I want him out of here.”  
  
“Merlin—”  
  
Merlin disappeared into Arthur’s room and the door slammed shut with a bang. Arthur sighed.  
  
“Maybe you’d better explain to me why you’re here.”  
  
Percival sat on the sofa and Arthur sat across from him in the chair.  
  
“I didn’t think it was true,” Percival began. “When Lancelot told me, I was sure it was just a story. But then Leon confirmed it...It’s incredible. How can you stand the smell?”  
  
Arthur figured he’d have to answer that question a thousand more times before anyone stopped. “You get used to it over time. I barely notice it anymore.”  
  
“Lucky you.”  
  
“So why are you really here?”  
  
“Leon wanted me to, er, make sure you were alright.”  
  
“You mean to make sure Merlin didn’t kill me?”  
  
“Sort of.”  
  
“What’s he going to do, have someone watch me at all times, just waiting for Merlin to finally lose it and rip my head off?”  
  
There was an anguished groan from the other room as Merlin heard.  
  
Percival swallowed, clearly not wanting to upset the lurking vampire further. “Yes and no. He’s not too worried about Merlin hurting you. He’s seen how Merlin is with you. It’s the other vampires he’s not sure about. He thinks it’s only a matter of time before they find out and come after you.”  
  
“So you’re what, my bodyguard? Thanks, but no thanks. I can take care of myself.”  
  
“I told Leon as much. Lancelot agreed too, said that an Omega like you didn’t need our protection because you didn’t deserve it.” The big man shrugged. “But Leon’s the Alpha. It was his call.”  
  
Arthur sighed. “So now what?”  
  
“I’m not sure. I’ll go back to Leon and ask him.”  
  
The werewolf stood and Arthur stopped him. “Wait. I have a question.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“How long do werewolves live?”  
  
“As long as they keep shifting...forever,” Percival replied. “Something to do with the organs regenerating every time we change. Oldest I’ve met is a thousand years old.”  
  
“There’s a way to stop shifting?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“Even on a full moon?”  
  
“Yeah, after a while. It depends on the age. Some stop shifting naturally on full moons as early as three hundred, others as late as fifteen hundred. It can also differ from person to person.”  
  
“‘Naturally?’ You mean there’s a way to control it?”  
  
Percival smirked. “You really have no idea, do you?”  
  
“None at all,” Arthur admitted.  
  
“How long have you been one?”  
  
“About twenty years.”  
  
Percival pursed his lips. “It’s a shame we didn’t find you sooner. We really would have helped you. We still can, you know.”  
  
Arthur shook his head. “I’m not one for following. I’m more of tread my own path kind of bloke. Not particularly good with authority either.”  
  
“That’s alright. I’ll come by another time and teach you some things. The others don’t have to know.”  
  
Arthur felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “That’d be great.”  
  
“Until next time then.” He shook Arthur’s hand again. “I hope then Merlin will be more inclined to speak with me.”  
  
“Goodbye.”  
  
Arthur went to his room and saw Merlin lying upside down on the bed with his head on the floor.  
  
“So he wasn’t here to kill me,” the vampire stated.  
  
“No.”  
  
“And you can live forever.”  
  
“It would seem that way.”  
  
Merlin smiled broadly. “Let’s fuck to celebrate.”  
  
“Or...”  
  
“Or what?”  
  
“Remember how I said I’m not gay?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“There’s something I’ve never done before.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes got comically wide. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Merlin’s cock twitched at the thought of it.  
  
Arthur laughed. “Not exactly. Baby steps, Merlin.” He pulled his shirt off. “I was thinking I’d return the favour from earlier.”  
  
Merlin didn’t remember for a moment then the memory hit him full force. That time Merlin had sucked him off in his flat after he’d fed from Gwaine.  
  
“Oh,” he said lowly. He righted himself on the bed, his hair ruffled and adorable. “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah. Like I said, I’ve never done it before so...”  
  
“Fuck, Arthur. I feel like I’ll be corrupting you. I’m too old to be taking anyone’s virginity.”  
  
“Maybe I want to be corrupted.”  
  
Merlin made a whimpering sound he wasn’t too proud of and hurried out of his own clothes. “Get over here then.”  
  
Arthur crawled naked over Merlin’s porcelain body, their cocks touching briefly as Arthur leaned in to kiss the waiting lips. Merlin arched his back to feel that sweet sensation again and Arthur moaned. He pressed down on Merlin’s hips to still him.  
  
“I want to do this right,” Arthur whispered.  
  
He trailed kisses down Merlin’s chest, stopping at each nipple to drive Merlin mad.  
  
“With a tongue like that I think you’ll do brilliantly,” Merlin remarked.  
  
Arthur chose that moment to twirl his tongue around the nipple then suck on it with a loud smacking sound. Merlin keened and his toes curled in the bedsheets.  
  
“Arthur...”  
  
“Patience, Merlin. We have all the time in the world.”  
  
Merlin let out a wrecked sob. If what Percival said was true, Arthur was right. The thought of having this for eternity crashed upon Merlin in a wave of desire.  
  
Finally, Arthur’s lips made it to Merlin’s weeping cock. Arthur thought back to all the porn he had watched and tried to remember if there was some sort of technique.  
  
He opened his mouth as wide as it would go and even then his lips were stretched over the impressive girth. He slid down, nearly gagging as more and more of Merlin filled his mouth.  
  
Merlin struggled not to thrust upwards for more of the heavenly wet warmth. He knew he was long—almost twenty-three centimetres—and Arthur was new to this. Plus, with his vampiric strength, he might shatter Arthur’s jaw. Arthur curled his tongue and dragged it across the underside of Merlin’s prick as he raised back up to the top.  
  
“Arthur.” Merlin reached down and cupped Arthur’s cheek and the werewolf looked up at him with wide, lust-blown eyes.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Please.”  
  
It was Merlin’s way of asking for Arthur to go faster. He didn’t want to push Arthur too quickly, but Arthur was going painfully slowly.  
  
Arthur got the hint and started bobbing up and down, swiping his tongue from side to side as he went, hollowing his cheeks so Merlin would feel the suction. Merlin threw his head back in ecstasy and moaned. Fuck, Arthur was a natural.  
  
The longer Arthur sucked him off the more Arthur's jaw started to ache. He felt as though he might be getting sloppy, so he tightened his lips to make up for it, ignoring the pain on the side of his mouth. He wanted to make this as good for Merlin as it was for him those many weeks ago.  
  
He felt Merlin shudder beneath him and when he looked up the vampire was holding his breath.  
  
“Arthur, you might want to...” Merlin warned.  
  
“Lmmph,” Arthur hummed in disagreement. He wanted to taste Merlin on his tongue, swallow him like Merlin had.  
  
Arthur picked up the speed and Merlin had to grab something, anything, to hold himself together. He settled on the headboard behind him and dug his fingernails into the wood. After a few seconds the headboard snapped as Merlin pulled two large hand-shaped chunks out of it.  
  
Ordinarily he would have apologised but just then he felt his climax build low in his abdomen and it shot up through his dick as he came hard into Arthur’s mouth.  
  
It didn’t hit Arthur’s tongue first. It hit the roof of his mouth and stuck like peanut butter, white and hot. He pulled back a little, surprised by the sour taste, but didn’t give up. He angled his head so that it went straight down his throat and he waited for Merlin to stop twitching before he pulled his lips off with a pop and swallowed.  
  
Merlin pulled Arthur up by his shoulders and kissed him, slow and deep, wanting to taste himself on Arthur’s tongue. It was a mark of his territory, proved that Arthur belonged to him and no one else. And he was equally Arthur’s.  
  
The kiss lasted minutes, with Arthur getting himself off on Merlin’s thigh and biting Merlin’s bottom lip as he shuddered and came.  
  
“You broke my bed,” Arthur said, carding his fingers through Merlin’s black hair.  
  
“Just the headboard,” Merlin replied. “I am sorry about that.”  
  
“Mmm.” He nuzzled Merlin’s neck. “Next time break your own headboard.”  
  
“‘Kay.”  
  
Merlin seemed content to lay about all night with Arthur’s come on his stomach but Arthur wasn’t. He picked up a corner of the duvet and wiped the white mess away before it could dry.  
  
“It’s filthy anyway,” Arthur explained to Merlin’s bemused expression. “I always wash the bed clothes right after a full moon.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
Arthur settled on Merlin’s chest, and Merlin wrapped an arm around him. “You’re freezing,” Arthur said.  
  
“You’re hot.”  
  
“I am, aren’t I?”  
  
Merlin smiled. “And modest.”  
  
“You’re too kind,” Arthur joked. He played with the various parts of Merlin’s torso idly, curling his fingers in the dark chest hair, running his hand over the porcelain smooth planes, and fussing at a nipple until it was small and hard.  
  
“You’re also a tease,” Merlin said through his teeth.  
  
“Sorry. Forgot where I was for a moment.”  
  
“You’re in your flat. In bed with a vampire,” Merlin reminded him.  
  
Arthur sighed. “Something that will never cease to amaze me.”  
  
“Tell me about it,” Merlin agreed. “I’ve spent so long hating werewolves, then not caring either way about them, then hating them again...to be in love with my kind’s natural enemy is hard to wrap my head around. But once you live long enough I guess you begin to see that anything is possible.”  
  
Arthur tracked backwards. “‘In love with?’”  
  
Merlin darted his eyes to Arthur’s. “Yeah. I’m in love with you, Arthur Pendragon. You think I risk my existence for all my boyfriends?”  
  
Arthur’s heart pumped hard, fast, and loud in his chest. He knew Merlin could more than just hear it; he could feel it vibrate between their bodies. He’d been aware that they were more than just boyfriends and lovers, more than even husbands would be if they ever married. Their relationship ran deep, Arthur could feel it with a certainty he felt about nothing else. But Arthur had never named it before, never fully acknowledged just how much Merlin meant to him.  
  
“I’m in love with you as well,” Arthur whispered.  
  
Merlin grinned. “Yeah, because of my cheekbones.”  
  
Arthur smiled a bit at that but then grew serious again. “There’s that, true. But there’s more to you than that. When I first saw you I thought, ‘Oh, another arrogant, self-centred bloodsucker.’ And then again at work when I watched you being all friendly to Elyan, I was angry at how deceptively charming you were, just like the rest of them,” Arthur confessed. “But then, with Gwaine...you more than just cleaned him up. You made him comfortable. And that’s when I knew something was different about you.” He met Merlin’s eyes. “You’re a good person.”  
  
Merlin stroked Arthur’s hair affectionately. “I try to be. But I have an unfortunate craving for blood.”  
  
“But you're still good.”  
  
Merlin shook his head solemnly. “No, Arthur. I will not have you fooled into thinking I’m a saint.”  
  
“I know you’re not a saint. I know you’ve killed innocent people. But you’re not like the others. You don’t get a kick out of it. You don’t go around slaughtering people just because.”  
  
“You didn’t know me three hundred years ago.”  
  
Arthur swallowed. “You were young. You said so yourself.”  
  
“That’s no excuse for what I did. I'm a—I was a monster.” Merlin’s voice broke on the final word and Arthur tried not to look up too quickly. He was surprised by what he saw there. Tears were forming at the corners of Merlin’s eyes, but he wasn’t crying. Not yet.  
  
“I killed _children_ , Arthur. I fed from pregnant women, terrorised whole villages, and slaughtered cattle just to watch people starve...I was terrible. Whole families ended because of me, and I was just a simple peasant from Wales that someone deemed worthy enough to bestow this ‘wonderful gift’ upon.” Tears fell from his eyes as he said the last part bitterly. “If only I’d died when I was supposed to, history would have been so different.”  
  
Arthur sat up and stroked his cheek. “It’s alright Merlin. You’re making up for it now. You’re helping people.”  
  
“But Ms Le Fay—”  
  
“You did her a favour. There’s nothing wrong with putting someone out of their misery.”  
  
Merlin placed his hand over Arthur’s on his face and attempted a smile. “I don’t deserve you,” he said. “And you definitely deserve someone better than me. A nice wolfgirl maybe. Someone you can have kids with.”  
  
Arthur grew furious. “Shut up, Merlin. I don’t want kids. It’s you I want, and it’s you I’ll have.” Arthur wiped Merlin’s eyes gently. And said in a softer voice, “Is that understood?”  
  
Merlin’s smile broadened and it was more genuine. “Damn. There’s really no getting rid of you, is there? They always did say if you feed a dog once—”  
  
“When have you ever fed me?” Arthur was smiling now too, glad to be back in safer territory. He could do mocking. He was good with mocking.  
  
“Only on our first bloody date, you clotpole.”  
  
“You took me to a restaurant—with mediocre food, I might add—but you’ve never spoon-fed me or anything.”  
  
“Is that a request?”  
  
Arthur blushed. “No! I’m not a baby.”  
  
“I think you want to be fed,” Merlin teased. “I think you’d like a nice big hot bowl of soup spoon-fed to you when you’re all tucked up under the duvet—”  
  
“Merlin. Merlin, no. That’s utterly ridiculous and if you ever even _try_ it I will tear your pubes out one by one.”  
  
“Ouch.” Merlin cringed at the thought. That was one of the few pains he _could_ still feel.  
  
“Precisely.”  
  
“Fine then. But I know you’ve got a weak spot for _some_ thing girly and romantic. I’ve just got to find it out.” Merlin pinched Arthur’s nose to emphasise and Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
“Good luck with that.”  
  
“So, anything planned for the rest of the night?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Not really.” Arthur raised his eyebrows in suggestion. “Wanna have another go?”  
  
“It’s like you read my mind.”

****

The night after Merlin cried for the first time in Arthur’s presence, Merlin went to his bookcase and picked up his oldest copy of _Gulliver’s Travels._ It was torn and ragged from being read so many times, but now it served as a hiding place. In it, he’d cut out a small square large enough to hold a key. He took out the key now.  
  
He walked to his room and knelt in front of the chest of drawers. It’d been a long time since he had opened this drawer. With a deep, unnecessary breath, Merlin put the key in the lock of the bottom drawer and turned. He heard the click and closed his eyes before daring to go any further.  
  
The things in here didn’t matter now. It was the past. He wasn’t that person anymore. He was better.  
  
Merlin opened it. The shine of the blades would have looked pristine to human eyes, but Merlin could spot the dullness. He could hear the screams of each victim, the gurgling sound they made when he sliced their throats.  
  
Merlin thought if he was human, his hands might have trembled as he picked up the knife on the leftmost side of the drawer. They didn’t. Instead he spun it expertly through his fingers, then grasped it tightly, the handle fitting snug to the contours of his hand.  
  
It shouldn’t have felt so right to hold this weapon again. But it did. It was an ordinary army issued knife from his time in the second World War. It didn’t hold any particularly bad memories like the other ones.  
  
Merlin put the knife back in its place and picked up the next item, a dirk. It was the first weapon he’d ever had, given to him by his mother who said it had belonged to his father. He’d had it since he was sixteen, had gotten it sharpened and refashioned many times, but at its core it was still his father’s blade.  
  
He held it to his pulseless heart and remembered his first kill. A travelling man had stopped to rest at his and his mum’s farm for a night, theirs being the only place of refuge for miles until town. The only trouble was that the man had snuck into the stables, and Merlin, with keen ears even then, heard from his room the sounds of a man trying to calm the horses. He’d grabbed his dirk and made his way out, and thrust into the first shadow that jumped at him.  
  
The man had crumbled silently to the ground at his feet and Merlin stood ten minutes with bloody, trembling hands, staring at what he’d done. Then, like the man, he too crumbled into the pool of the man’s blood, and stayed like that till morning when his mum found him. She soothed him and they had buried him together.  
  
There were many times that Merlin would look at this blade and remember that, wishing he could return to being an innocent sixteen year old boy horrified at taking human life. Now it was so common he merely threw bodies into rubbish bins and walked away.  
  
Merlin put the dirk back down and simply stared at the remaining blades. There was a bone dagger that had been gifted to him, made from his mother’s bones so he’d always have her with him. There was a fancy knife that he’d been rewarded for his excellent work in a coven in India. It was literally priceless and he’d never used it before.  
  
And finally there was a simple Celtic dagger that he’d used back when the animosity between vampires and werewolves was at an all time high. It’d been forged with wolfsbane in the steel and silver, making it especially effective against the lycanthropes.  
  
Merlin stopped his reminiscing and raised his head. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“And I thought I was being quiet,” Edwin said dryly.  
  
“Answer the question.” Merlin turned around to face him.  
  
“The dogs aren’t the only ones keeping watch.”  
  
Merlin stood. “You were there yesterday. At Arthur’s flat.”  
  
“And doing a much better job of surveillance than that mutt,” he said, cleaning his nails idly. “I was surprised when I heard you tell that dog of yours your little sob story. As I recall it, you were ecstatic when we ‘terrorised’ that village.”  
  
Merlin glared at the vampire icily. “That was a different time. Things have changed.”  
  
“You’ve softened with age, Merlin. Your weapons are sharper than you.”  
  
Merlin moved at vampiric speed to stand face to face with Edwin. “I’m every bit the vampire I was then,” he said threateningly. “I simply choose not to let it show.”  
  
“Then you’ll have no problem killing werewolves if the time should come again.”  
  
Merlin’s nostrils flared and he swallowed thickly. “I don’t kill werewolves anymore.”  
  
“Were _wolf,_ ” Edwin corrected. “Singular. I see no reason why you should spare the others. He has no affiliation with them, as he said himself.”  
  
“That doesn’t matter and you know it!” Merlin shouted. “What if Arthur were to slay someone from another coven? You’d still go after him because he killed one of our kind.”  
  
“Whose side are you on, Merlin?” Edwin asked flatly. “Where do you stand?”  
  
Merlin squared his shoulders. “I’m on Arthur’s side. If anyone tries to attack him, vampire or werewolf, I’ll feed them their insides and stuff their severed head up their arse.”  
  
Edwin stared at Merlin unblinkingly a long while. Then, slowly, a smile crept across his face.  
  
“Perhaps there is still some of the old Merlin left after all.” And he was gone.  
  
Merlin sank onto his bed. He and Arthur were surrounded on all sides. Nobody could seem to accept the fact that they wanted each other. They’d both been human once, so what it did matter?  
  
It was worse when he was away from Arthur. He was more aware of just how different they were and his thoughts tended to veer towards things that made him chew his lip with worry. He wondered if Arthur felt just as lost without him.  
  
Merlin polished his blades for an hour, the screams of centuries’ worth of victims echoing in his ears, then went out to find Freya.

****

For the first time in months, Arthur went outside during the day. Since Merlin hadn’t come over after work the night before, he’d went to sleep early and woke up at nearly two in the afternoon. It would make tonight’s shift feel a bit longer but it wasn’t as if Arthur could get back to sleep.  
  
So Arthur was taking it upon himself to get prepared. Now that it was beginning to look like things were getting serious, Arthur found himself thinking more and more about Edwin’s sarcastic, “What are you going to do, scratch us?” comment. He had to be able to defend himself somehow, at least until Percival could teach him some tricks.  
  
He went to the outdoor survival shop and looked at the knife selections cluelessly with his hands in his pockets. He really had no idea what he was doing.  
  
“Can I help you?” A man came up and asked. Arthur looked at the man’s name tag: Aredian.  
  
Arthur hesitated. “I’m not exactly sure...I’m looking for something for...protection.”  
  
“Ah. We have a wide selection of switchblades right here,” Aredian gestured to the rack.  
  
Arthur eyed them with a frown. “Those are nice, but...I’m looking for something more...”  
  
“Sturdy?” Aredian suggested.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“What exactly are you trying to protect yourself from?”  
  
Arthur shifted uneasily. “Something fast. Really fast. And strong. And...” He thought about it a second. “Quiet. Fast, strong, and quiet.”  
  
Aredian smiled knowingly. “Sounds like a predator.”  
  
“They are. I mean, it is.”  
  
Aredian looked around quickly. “Follow me.”  
  
Arthur was confused but followed the man to the back of the shop. Aredian unlocked a door and looked around again before waving Arthur inside.  
  
It was a storage closet, fairly large, but looked left alone for the most part. Aredian turned the lamp on by pulling a string in the ceiling and Arthur saw the stocked shelves more clearly.  
  
There were blades of all kinds: short swords, machetes, dirks, daggers, switchblades, army knives, and the like. But there were also flowers and vials of liquid and other weird items.  
  
“What—”  
  
“I think this is what you want,” Aredian interrupted Arthur’s perusal of the place. He appeared on Arthur’s left with a small dagger, the blade a chrome silver with a swirling lavender colour engraved in it.  
  
Arthur felt an immense sting rise up, like fire running through his veins and he doubled over in pain. “What,” he said through clenched teeth. “What _is_ that thing?”  
  
Aredian’s eyes widened and he abruptly stepped back and put the silver blade away. “You’re a werewolf,” he said in surprise.  
  
Arthur, feeling the pain fade away, stood up straight again. He regarded the man through narrow eyes. “How’d you know?”  
  
“Wolfsbane. It’s engraved in the blade. And the dagger itself is silver, so it burns if touched by a werewolf,” Aredian explained. “But now I see. You must mean the _other_ fast, strong, and quiet type. The bloodthirsty kind.”  
  
He turned and picked up a similar dagger, but this one was solid black, the blade so dark it looked purple.  
  
“This one is laced with vervain. It has the same effect as wolfsbane does on werewolves, but to vampires.”  
  
He placed the blade in Arthur’s hand and Arthur marvelled at its weight. It couldn’t have been more than a few kilograms but the weight of life and death made it seem a tonne.  
  
“How much?” Arthur asked.  
  
“Three hundred quid.”  
  
Arthur felt his stomach drop but the decision was easy. He could make three hundred quid back in a couple weeks, but his life was irreplaceable. He pulled out his wallet and handed the man his money. He slipped the blade into his inside coat pocket and was about to leave before he stopped.  
  
“If you have a wolfsbane dagger, you must sell to vampires too.”  
  
Aredian nodded.  
  
“So any one of them could come in here, buy that, and kill me just as quick as I’ve bought this here.”  
  
Aredian smiled softly. “The same could be said for any weapon. I deal simply in business. What others choose to do with my product is no fault of mine.” He grew serious. “It’s not the weapon that kills, it’s the one who wields it.”  
  
“And no one’s killed you yet? Nobody’s tried to force you to choose a side, stop selling weapons that could kill them?”  
  
“The thing about you immortals,” Aredian began, “is that you live long enough to realise that anything can become a weapon. What matters is the effectiveness. You could have very well used a kitchen knife to stab through a vampire’s heart, but that wouldn’t ensure its death. The vervain will seep into the wound, burn through their veins, and reduce them to ash. It will be as if the sun shone upon them from the inside out.”  
  
Arthur bit his lip in thought. “Is there anything else besides a blade to kill a vampire? I know obviously garlic is just a myth, but is there anything that keeps them at a distance?”  
  
Aredian nodded and went to the back of the storage closet briefly. He came back with a jar of dark red liquid, so dark Arthur thought at first it was black.  
  
“Dead man’s blood,” Aredian announced. “Works like the myth of garlic for keeping them at bay, and causes temporary paralysis if injected into one. For this,” the shopkeeper pursed his lips. “Another three hundred quid.”  
  
Arthur gaped. “You’re joking.”  
  
“Have you any idea how hard it is to get dead man’s blood?”  
  
The man had a point there. “Fine.” Arthur fished out another three hundred pounds and gave it to him. How he was going to sneak out with a jar of blood he wasn’t sure.  
  
Then Aredian waved him forward. “This way. There’s a back entrance. Oh, and a friendly bit of advice: dip the blade in the blood for maximum results.”  
  
Arthur found himself in an alley with two homeless women sleeping and a door slammed behind his back. Arthur had to stick to the alleys he used so much by night to make it home without drawing the curious eyes of strangers on the pavement.  
  
That night before work, Arthur stared at his purchases thoughtfully. He’d never killed anyone before, not intentionally. He’d seen death plenty of times; he _was_ a nurse. But to force it upon someone...it was a completely different situation.  
  
He was still staring intently at them when there was a knock on his door. Arthur hurriedly hid the dagger and jar in his closet and went to answer it.  
  
Arthur could smell Merlin before he opened the door. “Thought I’d surprise you and actually walk in the front this time,” the vampire said, smiling brilliantly. He thrust his hands forward and Arthur took the paper bag from him. “This is for you.”  
  
Merlin walked in and plopped down on the sofa while Arthur opened the present. He laughed as soon as he saw what it was.  
  
“Roast chicken. Honestly, Merlin?” He held up the cloth that accompanied it. “What’s with the scarf?”  
  
“I had to wrap it in _some_ thing so you wouldn’t be able to smell the surprise,” Merlin explained with an innocent grin. “It’s sad really. Where normal couples use wrapping paper, we use clothing.”  
  
Arthur laughed. “Well, thank you. I’m starving.”  
  
“You’re always starving.”  
  
“Not true. And you don't look too pale yourself.” Arthur tore off a piece of the steaming chicken with his first three fingers and shoved it in his mouth. “You have something on the way here?” he tried to ask nonchalantly.  
  
Merlin nodded just barely, then skipped to a new topic. “There’s something else.” He pulled a book out of his coat pocket. “As promised, a copy of Swift’s masterpiece.”  
  
“You only say that because of your contribution.”  
  
“Naturally.”  
  
Suddenly the book was on the counter next to Arthur, Merlin having placed it there and sat back down so quickly Arthur didn’t see.  
  
“Have I mentioned I really hate when you do that?”  
  
“Once or twice,” Merlin teased. “Which is why I keep doing it.”  
  
Arthur picked at the chicken in silence and Merlin was content to watch, which Arthur had long since gotten used to by this point. Merlin had a thing for watching Arthur eat for some reason.  
  
When even the bones were picked clean, Arthur looked up and asked what had been on his mind the whole time. “So why the surprise visit? I thought we were laying low.”  
  
Merlin’s expression didn’t change, though Arthur did see a flicker of something he couldn't pin down. “I missed you.”  
  
“You missed me.”  
  
“Yeah. I’m allowed to do that, aren’t I?”  
  
Arthur laughed nervously. “Of course. It’s just unlike you to do something so—”  
  
“Unplanned."  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Maybe the best way is to be spontaneous.”  
  
“You said you couldn’t afford to be spontaneous. That it was dangerous.”  
  
“I’m changing my mind, okay?”  
  
Arthur’s brow furrowed at the change in tone and Merlin was instantly apologetic.  
  
“Sorry. I’m just being paranoid,” the vampire said. “Would you believe I circled the building fifty times before coming in?” he tried for humour.  
  
“Find anyone?”  
  
“Nope. It’s just us,” Merlin smiled. He was at Arthur’s side in the blink of an eye. “And a building full of mortals. Let’s do something fun before work.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“I’m not sure.”  
  
Arthur had to laugh. “So you show up, completely unannounced, claim to want to do something fun, and yet you have no idea what it is you want to do?”  
  
“I did say I missed you. Haven’t you read any Shakespeare? People in love are fools,” Merlin said. “But we could always start with you fucking me into the mattress.”  
  
Arthur just nodded vigorously and grabbed Merlin’s hand to keep him from sprinting toward the bedroom faster than he could follow. But when Merlin turned the doorknob and opened the door just a crack, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at Arthur with a wrinkled nose.  
  
“Get rid of it,” he said seriously.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You know what,” Merlin snapped. “Get rid of it.”  
  
He let go of Arthur’s hand and pushed the door open with obvious restraint. Arthur walked into the middle of his bedroom and looked helplessly at Merlin still standing in the doorway.  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
Merlin inhaled and exhaled once, pinched the bridge of his nose, then spoke softly but firmly. “The dead man’s blood. Throw it out at once.”  
  
“Oh. That.”  
  
“Yes, _that._ What the hell were you thinking?”  
  
“I was thinking that it’d be protection against vampires,” Arthur said as if it was obvious.  
  
Merlin ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm himself. When he spoke it was in a voice that started soft but steadily rose to a shout. “Maybe you haven’t noticed Arthur, but your boyfriend just happens to be a fucking vampire!”  
  
“I _have_ noticed, that’s why I bought it in the first place!” Arthur yelled, equally angry now.  
  
“And you thought I could, what, just walk right in? Sorry if I don’t feel comfortable having sex in a room with something that could kill me.”  
  
“I don’t see why not, considering I do it every fucking time you come over here.”  
  
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Merlin demanded.  
  
“Oh come _on_ Merlin. Like I’m not under the constant threat of you accidentally crushing my bones every time we shag. And you wonder why I won't let you fuck me.”  
  
Merlin felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a sack of bricks.  
  
“I didn’t mean that,” Arthur said immediately.  
  
Merlin fought the sadness with rage. He ignored the pinpricks in his skin caused by the presence of dead man’s blood so close and walked into the room. He grabbed Arthur’s wrists and held them up between their faces.  
  
“You think I’d hurt you, Arthur? Is that what you think?” He tightened his grip. “The truth is even if I wanted to, even if I didn’t love you so much that it physically pained me to see you upset, you’re much stronger than you know.”  
  
“Merlin.” Arthur writhed to get free but Merlin held fast. “Let go of me.”  
  
“No, Arthur. Look at this. Look at how I squeeze but all you get is a bruise.”  
  
Arthur quit squirming and looked at Merlin’s hold on his wrist. It was as if they were both humans, equals, Merlin’s fingers leaving bruises but not hurting more than a dull ache from the tight grip.  
  
“You know nothing about werewolves, Arthur. Your bones are just as strong as mine. You could _hurt_ me.”  
  
Arthur breathed heavily and looked back and forth between Merlin’s grasp and the vampire’s pained expression. When Merlin saw Arthur finally understood, he let go, and walked backwards into the doorway again.  
  
“Please, Arthur. If you don’t throw it out, at least move it,” Merlin said, referring to the dead man’s blood. “Not in the bedroom. The bedroom is _our_ place.”  
  
Arthur swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll put in under the sink. You never go in the kitchen.”  
  
Merlin moved to the far side of the living room, giving Arthur ample space to relocate the jar. “Thank you.”  
  
Arthur closed the cupboard beneath the sink and was just about to ask whether he could still fuck Merlin into the mattress or if the mood had been totally ruined when Merlin said, “Hurry up, Arthur.”  
  
When Arthur got back to his room, Merlin was sitting naked in the middle of the bed, cross-legged and grinning like a child at Christmas.

****

“Mordred.”  
  
Merlin looked up from buttoning his shirt. He was almost done changing out of his scrubs when Arthur walked in the locker room and said his creation’s name.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Mordred,” Arthur repeated. “You snapped his arm like a twig and he’s—” Arthur looked around for anyone else in the locker room. There was one, a woman. “—he’s just as strong as you.”  
  
Merlin went back to buttoning his shirt, then, done with that, changed into his trousers. He ignored Arthur’s remark.  
  
“Well? Were you lying or not?” Arthur demanded. “You were either using full strength earlier or you weren’t. Which was it?”  
  
Merlin shut his locker and glanced significantly at the woman in the room with them. “Talk to me outside,” he said simply.  
  
Arthur fumed but changed quickly into his clothes and met Merlin in front of the hospital building. Arthur was pulled to the side by the elbow as soon as he stepped past the automatic doors.  
  
“That was incredibly stupid of you, Arthur,” Merlin muttered as he walked them in the direction of his flat. Merlin’s hold on his arm was painful. “I already have enough trouble with locker rooms and you go and mention me breaking someone’s arm like—”  
  
“What trouble with locker rooms?” Arthur interrupted. “And let go of me.” He yanked his arm out of Merlin’s grasp.  
  
Merlin sighed in exasperation. “Mirrors, Arthur. Remember? No reflection.” He waved his hand in front of Arthur’s face. “Locker rooms and bathrooms are the highest risk places for me. I don’t need you bringing up things like that, okay?”  
  
“Alright, I’m sorry. But you owe me an explanation.”  
  
Merlin started walking faster and Arthur hastened to keep up. “I may have been holding back a bit earlier, but I was serious. You are strong, Arthur. If you'd talk to Leon's pack, you'd know that. And I would never hurt you.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “And I was...upset that you thought I would.”  
  
Arthur remembered the pained look on Merlin’s face, but that only somewhat softened his anger. “Are you going to keep lying to me?”  
  
“The things I keep from you are for you own good.”  
  
Arthur halted. “Since when do you know what’s for my own good?”  
  
“Since I put you in danger to begin with,” Merlin replied, turning.  
  
“This has always been a two way street, Merlin. You’re in just as much danger as I am.”  
  
Merlin looked around. “We’re not talking about this here. Come on.”  
  
Arthur reluctantly followed, but pressed on. “Why are we going back to yours?”  
  
“I don’t want prying eyes. Or ears.”  
  
“You mean Percival?”  
  
“And anyone else who might be lurking around.”  
  
“Like?”  
  
Merlin hesitated before answering. He didn’t really want to lie to Arthur. “Edwin.”  
  
Arthur took in the information better than Merlin thought he would. “Okay,” Arthur said. “So he’s been watching as well then?”  
  
Merlin nodded. “And he paid me a visit a last night.”  
  
“Is that really why you came over tonight? To check on me?”  
  
Merlin glanced at Arthur guiltily. “Yes. But I did miss you. It’s hard being away from you. And can you blame me? My friends...they’re every bit the nightmarish creatures the films portray.”  
  
“Like you used to be?” Arthur instantly wished he hadn’t said it. But Merlin nodded unfazed.  
  
“Exactly like I used to be.”  
  
When they made it to Merlin’s flat, Merlin flitted about, checking locks on windows and closing the curtains. Arthur sat on the sofa in the meantime.  
  
“Okay,” Merlin sat beside Arthur, resting his hand on Arthur’s thigh. “Now ask whatever you want.”  
  
“There’s lots of things: why do you keep acting like I’m the only one in danger, why are you giving false reasons for coming to my flat, and...” Arthur threw his arms up, exasperated. “Just start by telling me what you’ve been keeping from me.”  
  
“I told you most of it the other night,” Merlin said. “About my past and what I’ve done. I’m good at fighting, Arthur. I’m _great_ at it. That’s why I’m so worried about you. You’re young and unskilled.”  
  
“I know that, Merlin. That’s why I bought the dead man’s blood and the dagger.”  
  
“Dagger?”  
  
Arthur reached into his coat to get it but stopped. He remembered his own reaction to the wolfsbane blade. Luckily, Merlin got the idea.  
  
“A vampire slaying blade. I see.” Merlin smiled sadly. “You’ve been busy.” But he shook his head. “The dead man’s blood is one thing. That’s for protection. But I’m not going to let you become a murderer.”  
  
“It’s not murder. They’re vampires, not people.”  
  
Merlin chuckled, remembering his similar accidental insult. “I suppose I deserved that. But it’s the same principle, Arthur. Just let me do the fighting for us, okay?”  
  
“And I suppose you’d have me draw a circle in dead man’s blood and just sit in the middle while you do all the work? I’m not made of glass, Merlin, I can defend myself.”  
  
How could Merlin say it? How could he say that he didn’t want Arthur to end up like him, looking back on the past with shame and regret after nearly becoming a monster? How could he make Arthur see that it was better to remain pure and innocent without seeming condescending?  
  
While Merin was brooding over this, Arthur spoke again. “So why didn’t you tell me earlier why you’d come over? Why not just say you were worried about me?”  
  
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Merlin replied simply.  
  
“Of course. It all comes back to you thinking you’ve got to do everything by yourself.”  
  
“Basically.”  
  
Arthur finally seemed to relax since the hospital. “Well, I suppose if I had to be lied to about anything it would be for my protection. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay. No more secrets, Merlin. You know everything about me, it’s only fair I know you too.” He stroked Merlin’s cheek softly, the first affectionate touch since they’d shagged hours before. “I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”  
  
Merlin smiled. “You’re absolutely right.” He leaned into Arthur’s palm. “I love you.”  
  
Arthur was about to reciprocate when Merlin’s eyelids slid shut and he fell forward onto Arthur’s shoulder, limp as a corpse. He was dead asleep.  
  
“Merlin?” Arthur thought about shaking him awake but a glance towards the window told him dawn had snuck up on them. Merlin needed his sleep.  
  
Arthur scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. He placed him down on the bed, and tucked him in under the duvet. Under any other circumstances the domesticity of it all would have been unnerving, but Arthur found he didn’t really mind. Like Merlin, he enjoyed being a silent protector sometimes, and would guard Merlin’s body while he slept.  
  
Arthur was about to slip into bed next to him, tired himself, when he noticed the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers was slightly ajar. The drawer with a lock on it that he’d always been too afraid to ask about.  
  
He eyed Merlin’s sleeping form. Once the sun was up it was near impossible to wake a sleeping vampire. Arthur could safely look through any part of Merlin’s flat should he so choose.  
  
He knelt down and pulled open the drawer slowly. Immediately he felt the same pain he had in Aredian’s secret shop.  
  
There were five blades and Arthur could tell instantly which was the source of his pain. The weapon on the far right, a Celtic dagger, was a gleaming mixture of silver and steel, with wolfsbane expertly forged into it.  
  
Arthur stepped away from the drawer, far enough to only barely feel the wolfsbane’s effect, but close enough to properly admire the shining craftsmanship of the other weapons.  
  
They were all impressive, a golden one most of all, but there was one that particularly disturbed him. It was more a stake than a blade, and it was made almost entirely out of bone, reinforced only slightly with iron. A shiver ran down his spine as he wondered whose bones they might be.  
  
This drawer was most definitely a secret, one that Merlin had failed to mention. And to think the vampire had smiled and said he loved him right after agreeing that there should be no more secrets. It hurt Arthur deeply but he’d have to wait for sunset to bring it up.  
  
For now Arthur shut the bottom drawer with his outstretched foot, stripped down to his pants, and got into bed with Merlin. He was sweaty and angry and couldn’t get to sleep for half an hour before he decided “Fuck it” and pressed his chest to Merlin’s back. The cold skin was refreshing and calmed Arthur down enough for him to fall asleep.

****

Arthur slept until 4:31 p.m. At 4:30 a woman came in, set her things down on the kitchen counter, and began to clean. She started by hoovering. Which of course startled Arthur awake.  
  
Arthur panicked. He knew where he was—Merlin’s flat—but he’d never heard the sound of cleaning before. Though he supposed it had to happen sometime.  
  
He looked down at the sleeping vampire next to him. He didn’t know Merlin had a maid, but it made sense. He _was_ rich, after all.  
  
Arthur stayed in bed, not quite ready to get up and dress. Maybe he could go back to sleep when the hoovering stopped.  
  
When it eventually did, it was only for the maid to come in and start on Merlin’s room, which is when Arthur realised that the maid wasn’t a maid at all. It was the girl from the alley Merlin had fed from. Freya.  
  
“Oh, hello!” She greeted the wide-eyed Arthur with rosy cheeks. “I didn’t know Master Emrys had a guest. I apologise if I’ve woken you.”  
  
Arthur gathered his thoughts and stammered. “It’s f-fine. Don’t mind me.”  
  
She started by picking up the clothing on the floor and placing them in a laundry bag she’d apparently brought with her. Then she emptied the hamper in the corner of the room into the same bag and took it out to the the living room. Arthur was too caught up in his thoughts to mention she’d mixed in his own clothes.  
  
Freya plugged the hoover into the wall and cleaned Merlin’s floor. Occasionally she looked up and smiled at Arthur, and Arthur just smiled weakly back. When she was finished she put the hoover back in whatever magic place she’d got it from and returned to Merlin’s room.  
  
“Just let me know if I get in your way,” she said cheerily as she dusted Merlin’s furniture. When she got to the dresser she looked at it and frowned. “This isn’t supposed to be open.”  
  
She knelt down and opened the bottom drawer, made sure the blades were straight and in order, then closed it, turned the key and took the key out. She left the room and returned a few seconds later to continue dusting.  
  
That’s when Arthur knew something was wrong. More wrong than having a girl Merlin had fed from clean his flat. Arthur stood suddenly and grabbed the girl by the wrist.  
  
“I’m sorry, sir, if I’ve offended you!” she immediately apologised.  
  
Arthur ignored her and looked into her eyes. Her brown eyes were rimmed with red.  
  
“You’re his thrall,” Arthur spat, letting the girl go.  
  
“Yes, Emrys is my lord and master.” She bowed shakily. “Are you—are you a vampire too? Master Emrys said I’m to let no one feed from me except him. You’ll have to speak with Master if you want to drink.” She stepped back.  
  
Arthur softened, his anger quelled by the girl’s fright. “I’m not a vampire. I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Merlin, however...” he added lowly. He was going to have more than a few words with him.  
  
“Then if you don’t mind sir, I’d like to get back to work. I’m on a tight schedule.”  
  
Convinced that he was no longer a threat, Freya brushed past Arthur with annoyance, and Arthur realised he was still in only his underpants. He looked around helplessly for his clothes.  
  
As Freya was rolling the hoover out of the room, she tilted her head curiously at him. “Are you Arthur?”  
  
At the sound of his name, Arthur turned. “I am.”  
  
The girl turned bright red and Arthur could see why Merlin would want her as a thrall. Blood rushed to her cheeks too easily. “Oh.”  
  
“Why? Has he talked about me?”  
  
“Sometimes. But...” She looked at her sleeping master warily. “It’s a surprise. I really shouldn’t tell you.”  
  
“He has a surprise for me?” Arthur walked towards her, being sure to smile like they were in on the same secret.  
  
Freya nodded excitedly. “He showed it to me. I’m supposed to wait until he tells me to, but he didn’t expressly order it. I could show you if you want.” Her eyes got wide. “But don’t let on you know when he wakes up!”  
  
“Of course. Where is it?”  
  
She waved him into the living room and he followed, still in only his pants.  
  
“Through here,” she pointed at a door. Arthur knew what was inside. It was a closet.  
  
“In the closet?”  
  
“He’s changed it. It’s special now. Open it.”  
  
Arthur turned the doorknob and gasped at the sight before him. The closet went back more than it should have been able to and it was filled with clothes much too large for Merlin. They had to be for Arthur.  
  
“See why I think you should know now?” Freya giggled, remarking on Arthur’s near nakedness for the first time.  
  
“If I wear these clothes, won’t he know?” Arthur asked, holding up a shirt. It was much too expensive for his tastes, but he liked it all the same. Merlin knew him better than he’d thought.  
  
“You’re right. But if you say you found out the surprise on accident, he won’t be able to do anything about it.”  
  
“You’re saying I should lie to him?” Arthur gaped.  
  
Freya shrugged. “It’s only a small one. And you can’t walk around in your underpants all night.”  
  
Arthur saw her point, and this one lie wouldn’t even come close to offsetting Merlin’s many secrets.  
  
“How is this even here?” He gestured to the impossible closet. “This was only a few square metres before.”  
  
“He hired a faerie to build it. So it’s magic and extra special!”  
  
She left Arthur to finish her chores and the werewolf dressed quickly. He wouldn’t explore the rest of the closet just yet. He did want to be at least somewhat surprised when Merlin finally showed him.  
  
Freya was wiping down the kitchen when Arthur walked out. “How often do you come and clean for Merlin?”  
  
Freya didn’t look up from her work to answer. “Once a week. He texts me a date and I come.” She coloured slightly. “I didn’t think he’d ever have me over on a day when you were here. He said he wasn’t ready for me to meet you yet. So this is a surprise for me as well.” She smiled. “You’re very handsome just like he said.”  
  
Arthur filed the other information away for when Merlin woke up. “He told you I’m handsome?”  
  
She frowned a bit. “Er, no...I read it in his journal.” She got wide-eyed again. “Please don’t tell him!”  
  
A journal, huh? “I won’t,” Arthur said. “If you show it to me.”  
  
“No! No, no, no, not ever!” She practically screamed. “He’d kill me for sure!”  
  
“He’s hurt you?”  
  
“No,” she said more softly. “He’s always very nice. And very gentle with me. Never even raised his voice. But sometimes he looks...scary.” She shook her head as if to get rid of frightening images. “You wouldn’t want to read them anyway. They’re very depressing.”  
  
Arthur sighed. He wasn’t going to make this girl feel terrified just so he could spy on his lover.  
  
“Oh!” She slapped her forehead. “Arthur. _Arthur._ You’re Arthur the werewolf!” She grew excited. “I’ve never met a werewolf before. I thought you’d be...more hairy.”  
  
Arthur laughed. “Only on the full moon. I’m human the rest of the time.”  
  
“Nooooo,” she drew out the word with a mischievous smile. “Sometimes you have claws and you growl.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in close. “He likes it when you growl in his ear while you’re fucking him.”  
  
Arthur blushed to the tips of his ears and grinned sheepishly. “Did you read that in his journal as well?”  
  
She nodded proudly. “And he writes poetry about you. About how your eyes are ‘like the clear Mediterranean Sea.’” She slipped into a mocking, dreamy voice when she quoted. “His journals are fantastic reads. Some parts are like nightmares, others like fantasies, and most recently, like romances.” She giggled. “I feel like I’m meeting a character from a book!”  
  
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “Er, well...”  
  
“But technically you’ve met me before. On Beltane when he found me. You were there, right?”  
  
Arthur nodded. So Merlin had written about that as well.  
  
“He read that part out loud to me. He said I should know why he chose me and what happened, that it was only right that I know,” Freya explained. “Even if I have no say in the matter. That’s when I first heard about you as well. He said that that was the best birthday he’d ever had and that he didn’t think he could ever have so much fun with a werewolf.”  
  
Just then her mobile beeped and she got up frantically. It was an alarm for sunset. There were only fifteen minutes left until Merlin would wake up.  
  
“Don’t tell him I told you a thing!” She reminded Arthur as she walked to the bedroom quickly.  
  
Arthur followed her, curious. She was rummaging through Merlin’s closet looking for clothes to set out.  
  
“I’d tell you to find him some clothes while I shower but he expressly said not to let his things smell like werewolf. Whatever that means,” Freya said hurriedly. She picked out a shirt and trousers and folded them neatly on the dresser. Then began undressing herself.  
  
“Shower?” Arthur echoed, confused.  
  
“Yes. I have to be as clean as possible and on the table when he wakes up.”  
  
She said it like it was nothing special. When she was naked and just about to close the door to the loo, she stopped and eyed Arthur meaningfully.  
  
“Get back under the duvet and put your arms around him,” she said helpfully. “He likes when you put your arms around him.”  
  
With that she closed the door and the sound of running water started. Arthur stared at the door a minute, trying to process the last hour of his life, when what she’d said finally registered.  
  
He got back under the blanket and moved his body close to Merlin’s, laying with his chest to Merlin’s back like he had that morning. He pushed his cold nose into Merlin’s hair and wrapped an arm around the sleeping vampire.  
  
This was too weird. He was supposed to be mad at Merlin. He’d just found out that Merlin had not only lied to him about having secrets, but had done it so slyly that it was painful. Yet Arthur wasn’t as angry as he felt he should be. Yes, Merlin had secrets, but they weren’t entirely horrible. There was the case of the thrall, the drawer of blades, and the journal, but it wasn’t like Merlin had kept a separate family from him or was cheating. And everyone had a right to privacy.  
  
The journal intrigued him the most though. Poetry? Really?  
  
Freya came out of the loo after seven minutes with her long dark hair in a ponytail and fancy earrings dangling from her ears. She was still naked and her skin was rosy pink and seemed to have no shame in being naked before him. She gave Arthur a thumbs up and a smile as she walked out of the bedroom.  
  
Merlin stirred then and Arthur’s focus shifted from the naked woman roaming the flat to the waking vampire.  
  
Merlin rubbed his eyes. “Arthur?” he said in a voice thick with sleep. He turned in Arthur’s arms and lay facing him. “You’re dressed,” he remarked with a sleepy smile. Then he frowned. “You found the closet.”  
  
“I’m lucky I did or I would have been walking around in just my pants,” Arthur replied smoothly. “And before you say you wouldn’t have minded, let me remind you that we have work tonight.”  
  
“Killjoy.”  
  
“There’s something else,” Arthur hedged.  
  
Merlin sat up and sniffed the air, then looked at the recently vacated loo. “Shite,” he groaned. “Freya’s here.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Merlin watched Arthur’s reaction closely. “And you’re...okay with that?”  
  
Arthur shrugged. “She’s nice. It’s weird that she calls you Master Emrys, though.”  
  
Merlin chuckled nervously. “I know. I keep asking if she wants to call me Merlin, but she insists.”  
  
“She’s out there,” Arthur nodded to the living room.  
  
“Yeah.” Merlin got up and started to change quickly, not even taking the time to see what Freya had laid out for him, but rather trusting her judgment.  
  
“What’s the rush?” Arthur asked.  
  
“I don’t want her to get cold. The heating isn’t on.”  
  
Arthur didn’t understand what Merlin said until he followed him out into the living room. Freya was naked and laying on dining table waiting for him.  
  
“Hello, Master,” she greeted.  
  
“Good evening, Freya. Why don’t you sit up?”  
  
Freya sat up slowly. “Did I do something wrong?”  
  
“No,” Merlin assured her. “I just don’t think I’ll be needing you tonight.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Don’t do anything on my account, Merlin,” Arthur said from behind him.  
  
Freya picked up the kitchen knife beside her and held the tip to her outstretched forearm. “You look thirsty, Master. You should drink.” She was about the drag the blade across her skin when Merlin stopped her.  
  
“No! Freya, stop!” Immediately Freya stopped. She sat there frozen until Merlin ordered her otherwise.  
  
Merlin turned around. “Arthur...”  
  
“If you need to...I won’t stop you,” Arthur replied. “I mean, I don’t understand why she’s naked but—”  
  
“He likes to see the blood run through my veins.”  
  
“Freya, don’t talk,” Merlin ordered. To Arthur he said, “I don’t want you pretending to be okay with this. I know how this makes me look.”  
  
“Merlin, I eat out of rubbish bins every full moon. I know how that makes _me_ look,” Arthur pointed out. “I’m not in any position to judge you, and I’m not going to. If you want a meal that comes to you every week and cleans your flat, that’s fine. I’m not super enthusiastic about the whole mind control part of it, but...” He shrugged the rest.  
  
Merlin grinned broadly. “I really don’t deserve you.”  
  
Behind his back, Freya puckered her lips and moved her eyes back and forth meaningfully, signalling to Arthur that he should kiss him. Arthur took the advice and Merlin seemed glad for it. Then he turned Merlin around and pushed down on his shoulders so that he sat at the table.  
  
“Now, drink Merlin.”  
  
Merlin looked up at Arthur gratefully and nodded. “You can lay down Freya,” Merlin said. He always tried to give her options instead of direct orders when he could, but she lived to serve him now either way.  
  
She laid down so she was horizontal in front of him and relaxed her muscles. Merlin looked her over. He didn’t care about her full, round breasts, or tight, cleanly shaven cunt. He had eyes only for her rosy complexion and where he could sink his fangs into her first.  
  
Merlin licked his lips, let his fangs elongate and his eyes turn black before leaning forward and biting into her right bicep. She was every bit as sweet as all the other times he’d fed from her.  
  
He drank from her arm until she was unconscious. With her body limp he didn’t feel quite as bad rolling her over and biting into the small bit of fat on her hips. From there he drank deeply, closed his eyes and enjoyed the taste.  
  
He drank from other parts of her body as well, simply because he could. Freya was his to have and manoeuvre.  
  
Arthur, meanwhile, went to the bookcase and pulled out a copy of _Gulliver’s Travels_ , having left his own at home. He was ten pages in when there was a knock on the door of Merlin’s flat.  
  
He looked up to see Merlin already opening it to let Edwin in. He returned his eyes to the page but focusing on the content was out of the question now.  
  
“Two visits in one week, Edwin,” Merlin said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
Edwin sniffed the naked, bleeding woman on the table. “She smells divine. May I...?”  
  
“No,” Merlin declined immediately. “Just tell me why it is you’re here.”  
  
Edwin took his time, walked around the sofa Arthur was sitting on and ruffled his hair. “Hello, dog.”  
  
Arthur swatted the vamp’s hands away. “Edwin,” he greeted coldly.  
  
Finally, the blond vampire sank into a chair opposite Arthur and looked around, boredly regarding the scene before him. It wasn’t every day one walked into a flat with a vampire feeding on a naked girl and a werewolf reading as if it were nothing, especially if the two were lovers.  
  
“Edwin!” Merlin exclaimed, irritated.  
  
“Right, right, calm down.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. “I’ve got a letter for you from Gwen.”  
  
Merlin took the paper but before he opened it, Edwin interrupted him.  
  
“She also says to tell you that you’re wanted at the lounge tonight, work or no work.”  
  
Merlin mulled over the news and thoughtfully placed the letter on the kitchen counter. He licked Freya’s wounds, scooped her up and took her back to his bedroom where she would lay until she woke up. Then he came back to the living room and sat at the table with Gwen’s important paper.  
  
While Merlin tidied up his meal and got settled, Edwin made small talk with Arthur.  
  
“So how have things been over at Casa Pendragon?”  
  
Arthur glanced up at him hatefully. “Fine.”  
  
“Not that you’d know since you didn’t sleep there this morning,” Edwin continued, not bothering to hide the fact that he had been there.  
  
“I think it’s safe to assume everything is still in its proper place since I left it yesterday.”  
  
“Of course, of course. You’re probably right. Especially since you haven’t invited any vampires in. Besides the obvious.”  
  
Arthur turned the page even though he hadn’t gleaned a single bit of information and ignored Edwin. But the cheeky leech continued.  
  
“Heard you’ve taken precautions though. Went out and bought yourself a vamp slaying blade. So that’s good.”  
  
“Mmhmm.”  
  
“I’d say Merlin could teach you how to use it but, well, you know.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Merlin here is the best swordsman among us,” Edwin nodded to the vampire pouring over the letter’s contents. “He’s second in command, did you know that? If anything happens to our coven’s leader, Gwen, Merlin is the one in charge.”  
  
Arthur’s ears perked up. He hadn’t known that. He was under the impression that Gwen was just an old friend. He didn’t even know Merlin’s coven _had_ a leader.  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
“It sure is,” Edwin said with a toothy grin. “But I bet Merlin didn’t tell you that, did he?”  
  
“No, he didn’t.”  
  
“But he was probably getting around to it, right?”  
  
“Enough!” Merlin snapped from the table. “Edwin, you’ve delivered the message, now get lost.”  
  
“Aww, but me and Arfy were just getting to be pals,” Edwin mock whined.  
  
“No we weren’t,” Arthur laughed humourlessly.  
  
“Out,” Merlin repeated.  
  
Edwin sighed and stood slowly. He walked toward the entrance just as lazily as he’d walked in. “Is this how you treat your friends now?” He seemed to ask to no one in particular.  
  
“Only when they’re being unforgivably annoying,” Merlin replied icily. He threw the letter down and stood. “Are you going to go out yourself or will I have to drag you out?”  
  
“I’m going, I’m going,” Edwin said innocently. He was just about to close the door behind him when he stepped back in briefly. “But speaking of dragging, shall I tell Arthur how we became such good mates to begin with?”  
  
“Edwin!” Merlin shouted, his eyes dark as an abyss.  
  
Edwin flinched. “Another time then.” He shut the door softly and was gone.  
  
“Fucking tosser,” Merlin muttered to himself as he went back to his bedroom. Arthur set his book down and followed.  
  
Merlin was pulling Freya’s knickers up her legs when Arthur walked in.  
  
“Don’t pay Edwin any attention,” Merlin said as he fastened Freya’s bra. “He’s a twat. Trustworthy and dependable, but a twat. And he knows it.”  
  
Arthur would have been jealous at Merlin handling Freya if he didn’t know Merlin was gayer than two unicorns fucking under a rainbow. As it happened, he was a only a slight bit fazed, and more interested in what Edwin was going to say before he left.  
  
“But he’s your friend. Has been for more than two hundred years, you said.”  
  
Merlin sighed. “Only out of necessity. We sort of need each other. Otherwise I’d cut him off like a gammy leg.”  
  
Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Why do you need him?”  
  
Merlin pulled Freya’s skirt up to her hips then laid her back down, fully dressed, and turned to look at Arthur. He was silent and brooding a moment before he answered.  
  
“Think of it like this: a house needs supports, right? Let’s say it’s a simple hut, so one on each side, and a roof above them. A couple centuries ago, there were dozens of supports, lots of stability and foundation.”  
  
Arthur nodded to show he followed so far, but he wasn’t sure where Merlin was going with this analogy.  
  
“This house goes through a lot. Natural disasters, wars, disease. It has its fair share of good and bad tenants, that both take care of it and fuck it up royally. And over the years, some of the supports crumble and break. Okay?”  
  
“Okay...”  
  
“And eventually, there’s only two left. These two remember everything that has happened from the very beginning, the good stuff and the bad stuff. They’re beaten and weathered, but they’ve got each other to keep the house from crumbling down on top of them.”  
  
“Let me guess. You and Edwin are the supports?”  
  
“Spot on.”  
  
Arthur blinked. “You lost me.”  
  
Merlin smiled a bit sadly and pat Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll explain better later.”  
  
He moved to go, but Arthur stopped him. “I want to understand now.”  
  
Merlin kissed Arthur gently. “You’ve got work. And I’ve got to go. I’ll tell you this weekend, alright?”  
  
“This weekend? That’s three days! Won’t I see you before then?” Arthur felt like he’d just had a rug pulled from beneath him.  
  
“‘Fraid not, love. Gwen needs me for something.”  
  
Arthur followed him childishly back into the living room.  
  
“Take care of yourself while I’m gone.” Merlin shrugged into his brown leather coat that he didn’t need. “Ask Percival to teach you how to use your dagger. In fact, stay with him as much as possible.”  
  
“You _want_ me to hang out with the pack?” Arthur asked incredulously.  
  
“Not all of them. Goodness. Just the one. He seems like he knows what he’s doing. Leon wouldn’t have sent an amateur.”  
  
Finally, Merlin grabbed his keys from the kitchen worktop and stuffed Gwen’s letter in his coat pocket. “And remember, no matter what anyone says...” He looked at Arthur seriously. “I love you.”  
  
“I...love you too, Merlin,” Arthur said, mostly for lack of anything else to say.  
  
Merlin smiled brightly. “Great. Get the spare key from Freya and feel free to use your closet,” he said, turning towards the door. “You might as well since she went and spoiled the surprise.”  
  
“How did you know she—”  
  
Merlin glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “Please.”  
  
And then the door shut too quietly behind him.

****

  
Merlin stopped by the hospital first. He was going to be a responsible adult and let Elyan know he wouldn’t be able to work again 'til Monday night because of a death in the family. Elyan thought so highly of Merlin that the vampire suspected he could have asked for a rise just then and gotten it.  
  
Then he went to the lounge. It hadn’t been too long since he’d last been. At least not long enough for his absence to be remarked upon. He had disappeared for longer before.  
  
Nimueh was the only one in the main area when he walked in. It had been a while since they had been alone together. She lay on the sofa with her feet up and an arm draped across her eyes. She was similar in appearance to Freya but with redder lips and sharper features.  
  
“Hello Merlin,” she said lazily, as if just greeting him was a chore. She was intolerable that way. “I see you’ve decided to join us tonight.”  
  
“Don’t get too excited,” Merlin quipped, sitting in a lounge chair on the other side of the room. He gave the place a quick once over. “Is Mordred here?”  
  
“He’s in the back mourning over his eternal fifteen year old cock again.” She sat up. “He in trouble?”  
  
“Has he done something I should know about?” Merlin didn’t need anything else on his plate right now, but leave it to Mordred to do something foolish that only a young vampire would.  
  
“Not that I’ve heard.”  
  
“But you want there to be something.” Merlin snorted. “Go stir up your own drama for once instead of getting off on other people’s.”  
  
“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked innocently.  
  
Merlin sighed. “Where’s Gwen, then? I need to speak with her.”  
  
Nimmie’s brow twitched. “In her room. Edwin just went in there a little while ago.”  
  
Merlin didn’t let the worry show on his face, just stood up and walked as lazily as possible up the stairs at the back of the room. When he reached the top, he made the mistake of glancing down at Nimueh. The light from the fire danced across her face and the shadows over her eyes and her smile was creepy.  
  
He shook the feeling of foreboding away. Nimmie was just like that, always trying to let on that she knew more than she actually did.  
  
Merlin knocked once on Gwen’s door then let himself in. She was seated on the bench at the end of her bed talking to Edwin. From the atmosphere in the room it must have been a playful topic instead of a serious one. Good.  
  
“Merlin!” Gwen stood and ran to embrace him. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been years.”  
  
Merlin returned the hug sincerely. He had missed his friend. “Work and all that,” Merlin said. “I’ve been coming by regularly though. And Edwin’s been great about making sure Mordred doesn’t do anything stupid when I’m not around.” Merlin put on his most charming smile for the two of them.  
  
“Come, sit.” Gwen motioned for Sefa, her thrall who had been silently standing by, to pull up a chair for Merlin. She did and he sat.  
  
“Evening, Sefa,” Merlin nodded in greeting.  
  
“Lord Emrys.” Sefa curtseyed and returned to her position.  
  
There was silence as Gwen simply held her hands in her lap and regarded Merlin fondly. She looked into his blue eyes as if trying to decipher the meaning in a great work of art. Finally she sighed and waved her hand at Edwin.  
  
“Leave us,” she said wistfully.  
  
“My Lady?” Edwin looked confused.  
  
“I said, leave us.” More assertively.  
  
Edwin hesitated but was gone a second later. Gwen’s smile seemed to dim with sadness when it was only the two of them left (and Sefa, whom she didn’t count).  
  
“What’s this about coven negotiations, Gwen?” Merlin asked. He wanted to get straight to the point, and with Gwen, he knew he could. “Are we in danger?”  
  
But this time, Gwen was slow to answer directly. She unfolded and folded her hands in her lap, sat thinking peacefully for minutes before responding to her old friend.  
  
“How long have we known each other, Merlin?”  
  
Merlin’s brows pushed together and he let out a huff of laughter. “Since before I was made. But what does that have to—”  
  
“And how long have we been friends?” she continued, her smile still plastered to her face.  
  
Merlin swallowed. “Since before I was made,” he repeated.  
  
“That’s a long time, don’t you think?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I took you and Edwin in. Kept you even when you created that abomination Mordred. I’d like to think we’re more than friends. You’re like a little brother to me, Merlin.”  
  
“I’m extremely grateful—”  
  
“And you’ve proven yourself loyal. Worked your way to the top. Demonstrated your leadership skills and excellent judgment. I couldn’t ask for a better lieutenant.”  
  
Merlin remained quiet. There was a “but” coming.  
  
Gwen stood and walked to the window, looked out solemnly into the night. Then, after another long moment, turned to face Merlin, who had stood and come to stand a few feet behind her.  
  
“As more than your superior, Merlin, but as a sister, you must know you can come to me with anything.” She fixed her gaze intently on Merlin’s eyes. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Merlin?”  
  
Merlin held Gwen’s stare steadily. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. Neither did she.

Minutes passed before Merlin spoke. “Did Edwin—”  
  
“We’re not talking about Edwin,” Gwen cut him off firmly. “We’re talking about you.”  
  
Finally, Merlin dropped his gaze and let his inner turmoil show on his face. His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m in love with a werewolf.”  
  
Gwen sighed, but instead of lashing out like Merlin feared, she pulled him to her bosom and stroked his dark hair. She’d obviously seen the forming tears in the corners of Merlin’s eyes and her caring nature longed to soothe him.  
  
“I’m sorry, Guinevere,” Merlin said, trying not to break into sobs. “I know I’ve disappointed everyone, especially you. You've helped me so much, when I was in the darkest of places, and I’ve—I’ve—”  
  
“Shh,” Gwen quieted him. “Oh, Merlin. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.”  
  
“I was going to tell you.”  
  
“No, Merlin. No you weren’t.”  
  
Merlin did break into sobs then and he hated the sound of his weakness. It burned his ears and made him want to rip off whole pieces of his flesh. Still, Gwen held him, swaying back and forth with the crying vampire’s cheek to her breast.

His cries echoed through the coven’s home. The last time such pain had rung out was when Gwen’s great-granddaughter had killed herself and Gwen spent years mourning. But nobody would ridicule him. They all sat silently listening to their leader’s hurt, maybe even feeling some of it themselves through his cries. Even Mordred was respectful.

Merlin wasn't even sure why he was crying. Was it that he was ashamed? He would've like to think that something so petty was beneath him, that he didn't care what the other vampires might think, but he hadn't forgotten the time when he would have scoffed at such an engagement himself. He would've been an hypocrite to do so. He probably disgusted the others, and didn't deserve to call himself a vampire.  
  
“There, there, Merlin,” Gwen cooed. “I’m not upset. I’m not disappointed.”  
  
Merlin sniffled and looked up childishly. “You’re not?”  
  
“Only disappointed you felt you couldn’t come to me.” She lifted Merlin’s head and wiped his cheeks with her thumbs. “We could have worked something out. We still can. Sefa.”  
  
Gwen waved over her thrall, who appeared with a handkerchief. She handed it to Merlin.  
  
“Thank you, Sefa.” Merlin wiped his face, ashamed to have broken down in front of this mortal girl. She didn’t regard him with pity though, which he was grateful for.  
  
“Now come and sit, Merlin.” They took up their old places on the chair and bench and Merlin tried not to look away from Gwen too often.  
  
“He must be important to you,” Gwen said. “You were never one for...settling.”  
  
Merlin let out a shaky laugh. It was true he had a reputation for his sexual activities.  
  
“He must also be something special if you’re willing to overlook his status,” Gwen continued.  
  
Merlin merely worked at the handkerchief in his hands and nodded.  
  
“Where is he now?”  
  
Merlin looked up in surprise and confusion. He thought briefly to question her but decided against it. “At work. At the hospital.”  
  
Gwen nodded and stood. “Sefa. Bring me something suitable to wear.”  
  
“You’re going out?” Gwen hadn’t left the lounge in decades.  
  
“I’m going to meet this werewolf of yours for myself.” She put a hand up to stop him from standing. “And you’re going to stay here. Until Friday night like I detailed in the letter.”  
  
“But—” Gwen gave him a look and there was no arguing with that.  
  
Merlin thumbed his trouser pocket while Gwen changed. He wanted to ring Arthur, prepare him somehow. But even if Gwen did allow it, what would he say?  
  
“You may leave the room, but do not leave the den. Understood, Merlin?” Gwen said on her way out. Merlin nodded half-heartedly. “I’ll see you soon, brother.”  
  
When she was gone he trudged out to the corridor. The rest of the coven stood outside the door, waiting for him to say something. He didn’t have anything to say. He met each of their eyes one by one until finally he came to Mordred’s. The fledgling shifted his gaze to his feet.  
  
Merlin turned and disappeared into the depths of their home to wait out his sentence.

****

  
Arthur didn’t bother asking Freya for the spare key. He wouldn’t be needing to go back to Merlin’s flat for anything. It wasn’t just that he was upset, he was confused. There were still things he didn’t understand.  
  
Arthur had been too caught up in the whole Freya business to talk to Merlin about the weapons drawer and now he was disappearing for two nights with no good explanation. He’d only worried Arthur even more by declaring his love like it was the last time they might see each other again.  
  
So Arthur was understandably distracted when he made the rounds at work. However, he’d gotten so used to people just popping up, that he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he raised his eyes and saw a smiling, caramel-coloured beauty standing before him.  
  
She smelled strongly of vampire. She must have been older than Merlin. She held herself with an air of royalty, basked in the glances men threw her whenever she walked or ran a hand through her long dark curls.  
  
“Hello, Arthur,” she said, her voice like a symphony. “I’m—”  
  
“Gwen.”  
  
The old vampire wrinkled her nose but smiled. “That’s right. Has Merlin told you about me?”  
  
“Not much.” In fact the only thing he did know was that she was very sad, and of course that she was the leader of their small coven.  
  
“You’ve probably figured that my being here means I’ve found out some shocking information.”  
  
Arthur’s heart beat a good deal faster, giving away his nervousness. “Yes. But I’m working now. It’ll have to wait.”  
  
He tried to sidestep her but of course she was faster. “Just leave. It’s one night.”  
  
“I take off too many nights a month as it is,” Arthur replied. “I don’t want to lose my job.”  
  
“I don’t understand. Merlin has money. Why do you work?” She looked honestly confused.  
  
“I _like_ working here. And so does Merlin. If you’ll excuse me—”  
  
“He does?”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation. “ _Yes._ I thought you’d know that, being his friend and all.”  
  
“Hmm. That is most curious.” She frowned in thought.  
  
“Yeah. Most.” Arthur looked around. Gwen wasn’t supposed to be here and he wasn’t supposed to be making idle chit chat. “Listen, just wait a couple hours. My shift is almost over.”  
  
When he sidestepped her this time she didn’t stop him. He was glad. He didn’t think he could handle being in her presence for much longer. She was soft, yet intimidating. She had a calculating stare that pierced Arthur’s soul.  
  
Coming out of the locker room at the end of his shift, he ran into her standing there waiting for him.  
  
“I have questions for you,” she said simply.  
  
He barked out a laugh and a couple of his co-workers shot him a glance. “ _You_ have questions? Now that’s a laugh.”  
  
She turned up a corner of her mouth in a smile. “Let’s take a walk.”  
  
Suddenly Arthur was less inclined to laugh. He grew frightened again and patted his coat to make sure he had his dagger. She noticed the gesture.  
  
“I’m not going to hurt you. Merlin is too dear to me.”  
  
Arthur swallowed and wondered just how long she’d known his boyfriend. He nodded curtly and she led the way.  
  
At first she didn’t speak and Arthur became impatient. He hated when vampires did that, when any immortal did that. Having all the time in the world didn’t mean one had to beat around the bush.  
  
He was just about to speak up when she finally said something. “You said Merlin likes working at the hospital?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Why is that?”  
  
“Has he really not told you?”  
  
Gwen frowned. “We haven’t talked of late. And he’s a very...private person.”  
  
Arthur could agree with that. “He likes to help people,” he said. “He told me he thought about being a doctor once, but didn’t trust himself around all of the blood.”  
  
“Hmm.” Gwen smiled as if remembering a conversation that finally made sense. “I see. And you? You like helping people?”  
  
“I’d have to to want to do my job.”  
  
Gwen nodded. “Edwin told me you aren’t in the pack.”  
  
Arthur felt his muscles tense involuntarily. These were more the types of questions he’d been expecting.  
  
“That’s right.” Then he realised the other half of what she said. “So Edwin told you about us then? I can hardly say I’m surprised.”  
  
“He didn’t. We vampires do have morals, you know.” Arthur cringed. Of course he knew that. He knew Merlin. “I have a thrall. Occasionally I send her out to check up on things. I’d heard some rumours within the coven. Naturally I wanted to get to the bottom of them, especially where Merlin was concerned.”  
  
“Because he’s second in command.”  
  
She glanced up at the werewolf. “Yes. But as I said, he is a dear friend. Like a brother to me.”  
  
Arthur’s eyebrow shot up. “A brother? I’m sorry, but he’s only ever spoken about you maybe, what, twice? If he’s so dear—”  
  
“Vampire relations are no concern of yours, Arthur,” she said firmly. “And it’s possible he didn’t want you to know. Did you ever think maybe he wanted to forget who he was when he was with you? Perhaps he simply wanted to be Merlin and Arthur and leave the rest behind. That is certainly something he would do.”  
  
Arthur had to agree. “He’s so secretive...”  
  
Gwen nodded. “He is. It’s sad, really. He’s like a child. He seeks approval and hides whatever part of himself he finds shameful.”  
  
Arthur remembered Freya’s words. _He likes when you put your arms around him._ They made so much sense now. Merlin wanted to be held, but didn’t know how to ask for it. He thought he had to be strong for both of them.  
  
“You understand.” Gwen interrupted his thoughts. “You’ve seen it in his face, haven’t you?”  
  
“I have.” He looked around. They had stopped. “Where are we?”  
  
The smell of salt was in the air and it was foggy. They were by the docks. If Arthur listened closely he could hear the sound of water lapping against the sides of boats in a nearby harbour.  
  
“You weren’t lying, then. You really have no idea.”  
  
“Where are we?” Arthur asked again.  
  
A loud, low bark pierced the quiet night. Arthur turned around slowly and saw the looming shadow of Leon’s black hulking wolf form.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Gwen pursed her lips. “Leon. I’m here to talk, not threaten.”  
  
The black werewolf stalked into the shadows and minutes later a man wearing only jogging trousers appeared. He had sandy blond curled hair, much different from his black fur.  
  
“Lady Gwen,” he said. “Arthur.” He nodded in Arthur’s direction. “You’re...interesting in this form.”  
  
“Likewise,” Arthur remarked. He was still partly awed by the fact that Leon could shift on demand.  
  
“I figured you’d visit sooner or later,” Leon sighed, addressing the vampire.  
  
“Then you know why I’m here.”  
  
“Yes.” His lip curled in the beginnings of a sneer.  
  
“I’m here to negotiate. I know Arthur isn’t in your pack, but he is your kin.”  
  
“He’s made it clear who he’s loyal to. If anyone dares touches his beloved leech, he’ll rip them limb from limb.” Leon looked to Arthur significantly. “Isn’t that right?”  
  
“I believe my exact words were ‘tear to shreds’ but ‘limb from limb’ works nicely as well,” Arthur replied just as coldly.  
  
Leon laughed humourlessly. “You see? And that’s where we stand. So this visit is completely unnecessary.”  
  
He turned to go but Gwen stopped him. “Not completely. I have a proposal.”  
  
Leon turned on his heel slowly. “And that is?”  
  
“Truce.”  
  
He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “A truce?”  
  
“Yes. My coven will not fight or threaten to fight your pack again. Unless, of course, you attack. But I trust you won’t,” Gwen declared.  
  
Leon considered. “And if another coven attacks us?”  
  
“We’ll aid neither them nor you. We are but five. We want peace,” Gwen said. “And most recently, one of us wants to simply be able to love.”  
  
Arthur blushed a bit when he realised that meant Merlin and him.  
  
“So no aid, and no threats. You want us to pretend you don’t exist. To overlook you for the sake of this one pair.”  
  
“Yes. That is exactly what I ask.”  
  
Leon looked back and forth between the werewolf and vampire. There had certainly been weirder things to have happened.  
  
“Fine.”

****

_I woke up in Arthur’s arms tonight. It was brilliant. To turn over and see him smiling at me was breathtaking, assuming I had any breath to take. Then Freya had to be there and nearly ruin everything. I’ll have to talk to her to see if she said anything she wasn’t supposed to. She already let the whole closet secret slip._

_Gwen found out. I haven’t worked out how yet, but I hope it wasn’t Edwin. To think that he of all people would betray me. Anyway, now I’m being kept like a prisoner in the lounge while Gwen goes to meet Arthur. My mind keeps jumping to the worst possibilities: Arthur lying dead in a ditch, Arthur trying to threaten Gwen with his knife, Arthur tending to patients obliviously while Gwen watches from the shadows..._

_If only I’d told him more about my life within the coven. If only I’d explained how it all operates. I feel I should have warned him somehow._

_I’m a mess. I wish this was all over and Arthur could just hold me. Of all the things I hate about myself, that weakness is what I loathe the most. It's a mortal trait, needing to be comforted. It’s wrong for someone strong and confident to want this._

_Sometimes I think part of me is still the helpless sixteen year old Welsh boy. Sometimes I wish I still was and that I hadn't turned into this. So fucking pathetic._

Merlin looked up at a knock on the chamber door. “Who’s there?”

“Edwin.”

Merlin sighed and hid his journal in a drawer of the desk he was sitting at. He leaned back in his chair, trying to strike a somewhat natural pose.

“What do you want?”

Edwin opened the door and entered. He closed it softly behind him. “I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t tell Gwen about Arthur.”

Merlin was honestly glad to hear it. “That’s a relief. I thought maybe I’d lost _all_ my friends.” He looked away from Edwin and down at his hands. “I know I’ve lost their respect.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Do I have a reason not to?”

Edwin pursed his lips and pulled up a chair. He sat in it backwards and rested it arms on the high back.

“I don’t know about Mordred or Nimmie. But you know Gwen and I have always thought highly of you no matter what you’ve done. I admit I was concerned at first.” The vampire wrinkled his nose. “A bit disturbed and more than a little disgusted. Then I saw how happy he made you. As terribly cliché as that sounds.”

Merlin smiled wryly. Serious discussions didn’t suit Edwin.

“In all our years of friendship, you’ve always been serious and contemplative. Your smiles have always been more cynical than genuinely pleased. Until Arthur.” Edwin ran a tired hand down his face. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay. If you want to be with the werewolf, I won’t give you a hard time.”

Merlin raised his eyes to meet Edwin’s. For the first time in a while, they weren’t mocking. They were large and sincere.

“Thank you, Edwin. It means a lot to me.”

“Now, as for Mordred and Nimmie...well, Mordred has always hated you. He’s resented you since the day you made him. And honestly, I don’t think anyone knows what goes on in Nimmie’s head. She’s a mystery to us all. But she’s always fancied you. I think as long as she sees you’re happy, she’ll be fine.”

Merlin was taken aback by the news. “Nimueh _likes_ me?”

Edwin laughed. “Oh yes. A good deal.”

Well that was. Interesting. “I had no idea,” Merlin said, awestruck. “She’s always been such a bitch around me.”

“That’s just how she is. But she definitely likes you. When you’re not here she asks for you, and it’s obvious she worries about you.”

“She’s know that I’m...you know...wouldn’t be interested even if I wanted to be?”

Edwin threw his arms up. “I kept trying to tell her!” He laughed heartily and Merlin had to join in. “But she kept saying she couldn’t help her feelings for you. She really needs to find some girl vamps to talk about these things with.”

Their laughter died out and they grew serious again.

“I should go talk to her,” Merlin said.

Edwin shook his head. “I think it’s better that you don’t. She’s not feeling well at the moment.”

Merlin’s brow furrowed. Vampires didn’t get ill.

“What I mean to say is, she’s troubled,” Edwin clarified. “After hearing you so upset, she was distraught.” Edwin apologised with his eyes for bringing up Merlin’s earlier moment of weakness. “I wouldn’t speak with her just yet. Give her some time.”

Merlin nodded. He wasn’t overly eager to confront her anyway.

Edwin stood. “Well, it’s getting on towards dawn. I should head home if I don’t want to end up a pile of ash on the pavement.” He reached out and pat Merlin on the back a couple times. “Take it easy, Merlin. You always were too hard on yourself.”

He left then and Merlin waited until he was far down the corridor to pull his journal out of the desk to continue writing.

 

_Edwin said he didn’t tell Gwen. And apparently Nimueh fancies me? This night is not going how I expected._

_It’s just started raining. What an odd time for it. I find it weird for the day to begin with rain. I always pinned rain as a mid-day or dusk event, but never near dawn. Dawn should be hopeful. Rain is sad._

_I wish Arthur was here._

****

The sky was fading from navy to pink on the horizon when Gwen unlocked the secret door in the stone with her blood. As soon as she stepped in she told Arthur to wait there for her thrall to come, then disappeared.

The lounge Merlin so rarely spoke of was more like what Arthur had imagined a vampire den to look like. The walls were a red so deep it was almost burgundy, there was a fire crackling on one side of the room, and the whole atmosphere was almost medieval. The place felt old and reeked so strongly of vampire that Arthur nearly gagged.

A small brunette arrived and greeted Arthur. She was the only soul he’d seen, looked incredibly young, and was definitely the only one with a beating heart in the vampire home.

“Good morning,” she greeted and they shook hands. “Please follow me.”

She turned and walked briskly through the stone corridors. Arthur discovered that for all the times the vampires called it a lounge, it was really more of a hidden castle. The only lounge part about it was the front area.

Gwen’s thrall led him into deep into the stone hideaway. Torches became less and less frequent on the walls as they entered the lesser used area. Finally they reached a door at the end of a narrow hall, a dim line of light shining along its edges.

“Lord Emrys,” the girl gestured to the door. She nodded curtly then turned on her heel and went back the way they’d come. Soon Arthur was left alone.

He took a deep breath and turned the handle. He expected it to be rusty, it being in such an old setting, but it turned with ease. The room he walked into was heavy with dank air.

On the left of the room was a four poster bed adorned with royal red curtains and a magnificent mahogany duvet. On either side was a small wardrobe. On the right was a writing desk, on top of which Merlin was slumped over asleep. Apparently he’d been writing in his journal when his fatigue overcame him.

Arthur closed the door silently behind him and walked over to his boyfriend. He took the pen out of Merlin’s limp hands and carried him over to the bed, tucked him beneath the duvet after removing his clothes, then returned to the desk.

He stared at the last written line. _I wish Arthur was here._ And now he was. He’d walked right into the middle of a bloody vampire castle to find his Merlin, but he was here.

Biting his lip, Arthur picked up the worn notebook. It was thick and heavy. He turned to the first page and his eyes widened at the date.

 

_2 November 1740_

_~_

_Though it’s cold, the humans still leave their homes to gather round the fire for Samhain. There is a famine here. The Irish are not only cold, but starving. Death both precedes and follows us from town to town._

_There is no fun to be had when their faces are gloomy. Edwin and I thought it might cheer us up to hide a babe on the roof and watch its mother try to find it, but she took so long it turned bluer than the sea. We put the corpse on her doorstep and looked for laughter elsewhere._

_But returning to last night—we picked off a good few. Their blood runs thin here from malnutrition. I keep asking Edwin why we’re still here, why we don’t go back to England or France. I think he is searching for someone._

_At times I wish I had someone to search for, but I fell ill before I could give anyone a child. There are no pieces of me or my family left in this world. I am truly alone._

Arthur skipped ahead a few pages. He hoped the next entry would be lighter.

 

_23 June 1816_

_~_

_What a strange man George is! He’s handsome and smart and cynical—did I mention handsome?—and has the most perfect arse I’ve ever seen... And he writes poetry. Poetry! A man of letters has taken a fancy to me, of all people._

_I’m oddly giddy with excitement. How queer is the effect he has on me. He says if I was half as good with language as I am with my mouth he’d have worthwhile competition._

_What is strange about him are his moods. I’m beginning to believe he’s afflicted somehow. One moment he will be in the highest of spirits, confident and smiling brilliantly, and the next he will be clutching his chest and mourning his club foot. He mumbles incoherently, the only phrase I’m able to make out being “limping devil,” which he’s begun to call himself._

_But no matter—he is different from anyone I’ve ever been with. Different is good._

Merlin must have been talking about Lord Byron here. Wasn’t that his first name: George? It sounded familiar, and the time certainly fit.

Though fascinated at Merlin having had an affair with the poet, Arthur wasn’t particularly inclined to read the details of their relationship. He skipped ahead a good deal further.

 

_11 December 1941_

_~_

_America has joined the war. It's been a while since I've tasted American. I’ve tasted German, Russian, Japanese, so many new flavours over these past few months. I wonder if it is still the same._

_War is the same as I remember it, as I’m sure it always has been. But they’ve new weapons now and new methods of attack. Planes and submarines—bombs drop from above or torpedos come from below. And there are “trenches.”_

_Trenches make it hard to move around. Men die in the confined space and I can’t budge because of their blood. Dead man’s blood. It’s extremely painful, but sometimes to keep out of the sun I have to stack corpses on top of me._

_Why did I decide to do this again?_

 

Arthur went back to the last entry Merlin had written. He didn’t like reading Merlin’s past as much as he’d thought he would. This last one though was just as sad and self-loathing as the rest.

His heart ached when he read it. As he had suspected, Merlin longed to be held, and thought himself weak for it.

When would Merlin realise that Arthur wasn’t some innocent mortal to be taken care of? He was just as capable of defending himself as Merlin was.

The rest of the entry had nearly the same tone as the others: cynical and worried. Arthur closed the journal and laid it down on the desk. He slipped out of his shoes and clothes and got into the bed next to Merlin. The tiring events of the night caught up with him and he was soon fast asleep.

****

When Merlin awoke, the first thing he felt was Arthur’s erection prodding into his lower back. Like the night before, the werewolf’s arms were around him, but tonight their legs were entwined and Arthur was breathing heavy with sleep.

Merlin sighed contentedly. Then he remembered where he’d been the night before and why it was so very wrong for Arthur to be there.

He opened his eyes and saw Gwen. He nearly jumped out of the bed, but Gwen held him down with a gentle hand.

“Stay,” she whispered softly. She didn’t want to wake Arthur, and honestly, Merlin didn’t want to either.

“What is he doing here?” Merlin asked.

“I brought him here. I wanted him to meet the others.”

“He’s already met them. Except Nimueh. But...” Merlin didn’t know if he should say the rest. “Did you know she fancies me? I don’t think she should meet him.”

“I know. And I think it will be fine. I want Arthur to meet them formally.”

Arthur moaned in his sleep and pressed himself closer to Merlin. Merlin fought the urge to push his arse back against the swelled cock behind him. He was glad their bodies were hidden beneath the duvet.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked Gwen instead.

“I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t.”

“When you met with him,” Merlin began hesitantly, “what did you talk about?”

“You, mostly. But also about him and his future in relation to the coven. We also met with Leon.”

“The _werewolf_ Leon?” Merlin gaped. “You know him?”

“I do. We know each other quite well in fact. And we came to an agreement.” Gwen smiled. “A truce. But I’ll explain in greater detail later. Night has only just fallen.”

“Oh...kay.” Things as monumental as a truce between werewolves and vampires didn’t just happen overnight did they?

“Mmm, Merlin,” Arthur mumbled in his sleep. It was low and hot and _wanting._ His hand slid down Merlin’s chest to his hips. Merlin’s eyes popped as his own erection pulsed.

Gwen stood, chuckling. “I’ll leave you for now. Arthur seems in need of your...attention.”

Could Merlin have blushed, he would have. Gwen disappeared from the room and Merlin lay still a few moments to collect his thoughts. Then Arthur stirred against him again and he decided fuck his thoughts.

He took Arthur’s hand in his own and guided it toward his cock. Arthur’s hand on him, even while asleep, seemed to wrap around his shaft eagerly. Merlin moved Arthur’s hand up and down in slow, purposeful strokes and pushed just slightly back against Arthur’s hard prick. When Arthur’s hand started moving on its own and his lips were on the back of Merlin’s neck, it was obvious he’d woken up.

“Taking advantage of me in my sleep?” Arthur drawled.

Merlin bit his lip as Arthur’s hand sped up. “Not like you didn’t want it,” he said though his teeth.

Arthur simply sighed into the vampire’s neck and Merlin shivered as the hot breath ghosted over his skin. Arthur began rocking forward in earnest, each thrust of his hips getting more and more desperate as the need to come intensified.

“Read your journal,” Arthur confessed breathlessly.

“You what?!”

“Let me finish. I only read some of it. Enough to know what you’re too embarrassed to ask.”

Arthur thumbed the slit of Merlin’s dick and twisted slightly around the head. Merlin yelped from the sudden shot of pleasure that ran through him.

“You let Gwaine fuck you right in front me...you got down on your knees and shoved my cock in your mouth before you even really knew me...and yet _this_ is what you’re ashamed of? Wanting me to hold you?” Arthur hips moved forward forcefully, almost angrily, as if he was punishing Merlin for his stupidity. “Tell me, Merlin, where’s the logic in that?”

Merlin whined. Arthur was cruel, using their current position as an opportunity to bring the matter up. He knew full well Merlin could deny him nothing when his hand felt so good on him.

“Well, Merlin?”

“Shut up,” Merlin grunted. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Arthur, the arse, laughed. “See what I mean?” He licked a stripe up Merlin’s neck. “Shameless.”

But even as he said it he rolled Merlin over onto his stomach and spread the vampire’s arse. It was already slick with precome and Arthur licked his hand, getting his cock as wet as he could before nudging the blunt head against the hole and pushing in. Merlin bit his lip and closed his eyes as he felt himself be filled by Arthur's girth.

He didn’t go slow. They were both already so close that any shred of restraint they’d had previously was long gone. Arthur let his animal instincts take over and fucked hard and fast into Merlin’s tight heat.

Merlin let out a series of whimpers, each punctuated by the slap of Arthur’s skin against his own. He raised himself onto his elbows and Arthur wrapped one arm around his torso, the other hand closing around Merlin's hanging cock.

Chest to back, Arthur’s heat surrounded Merlin. “Come for me,” Arthur whispered in Merlin’s ear. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With another pull on his dick, Merlin did. He came thick and white onto the bed sheet, Arthur’s name spilling from his lips.

Arthur’s quick thrusts halted as he came as well. Merlin’s elbows gave out and he collapsed on top of his hot mess, the milky liquid coating his chest and stomach. Arthur fell on top of him.

“Good thing I don’t need to breathe,” Merlin mumbled from underneath the werewolf.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed. He removed himself from Merlin and laid back down beside him. Suddenly Merlin’s face hovered inches above his.

He pressed a firm kiss down onto Arthur’s lips. “‘Sweetheart?’”

Arthur huffed out a laugh. “Sorry. I have no idea where that came from.” He brushed Merlin’s fringe to the side and cupped his cheek in one smooth motion.

Merlin turned his face slightly to take Arthur’s thumb in his mouth and suck it. Arthur watched with wide eyes as the warm tongue twirled around his digit. Merlin turned again and the thumb was exposed to the dank air.

“I don’t know,” Merlin said heatedly. “I kind of liked it.” His smile was positively wicked. “Maybe you can call me that when you’re holding me.”

Arthur couldn’t help the idiotic grin that spread across his face. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“But for right now, let’s get dressed and have you meet the others.”

“Alright.”

They separated and cleaned themselves up. Arthur put on the clothes he had on the night before and Merlin pulled something as suave as usual out of a wardrobe. Knowing how self-conscious Merlin was about his appearance, Arthur fixed the vampire’s bed-ruffled hair with his hands quickly.

“Thanks. You all set? Mentally prepared and whatnot?” Merlin asked.

Arthur nodded. “But first there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

He pulled Merlin closer by the hips and pressed his cheek to Merlin’s so he could whisper into his ear.

“I’m ready. Fuck me, sweetheart.”

The meeting with the vampires was sure to be longest half hour of Merlin’s existence. But they had eternity to make up for time lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could stop reading right here, as this was originally the end of the story, or you could keep reading extra chapters. Your choice. _*le shrug*_


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